Entropy

by Imperium42

Midoriya Izuku didn't change overnight. The process was slow and gradual, the end result of a life filled with rejections and roadblocks- but everyone has a breaking point. Destruction brings renewal, and with the death of his old dream, Izuku has found a new one- one he intends to share. All orderly systems descend into chaos. No one is immune to entropy, heroes least of all.

33. Red in Tooth and Claw

Chapter 33: Red in Tooth and Claw

Two Years Ago

Downtown Tokyo, Asakusa Ward

"Gunfire- I repeat, we have confirmed reports of gunfire and other weapons discharges at the bank on Yamaguchi Plaza! We've got a hostage situation, and multiple officers down! Any heroes or police units in the area, please respond!"

"This is Kamui Woods responding- Vine and I are en route now, ETA thirty seconds." Glancing back towards his intern as they swung though the cold winter air from building to building, Kamui cleared his throat and spoke up again over the sound of rushing wind and car horns, his voice crackling to life in her earpiece. "Are you sure you're ready for this? There wouldn't be any shame in letting me handle things- these criminals have guns, and it sounds like they're willing to kill."

"All the more reason I can't afford to turn a blind eye," Shiozaki Ibara replied in a tone that brokered no argument, anger swelling up in her chest. "Innocent people have been hurt, possibly killed, and more are still in danger. The reprobates who committed this heinous act must be punished."

They were nearing the plaza, just a block away now, and the distant sound of sirens was faintly audible in the distance. As she wrapped several strands of her vinelike hair around the top of a tall billboard to propel herself forward, Ibara clasped her hands together and summoned a prayer to mind.

"Behold, therefore- I shall stretch out mine hand of judgment hand upon thee and deliver thee as a spoil to the heathen; I shall cut thee off from thy people and cause thee to perish from the land; I shall destroy thee, and thou shalt know I am the Lord."

"Is that Old Testament?" Kamui asked, lighting atop the roof of an office building to survey the plaza below. "Sounds pretty intense."

"It is, yes- Ezekiel 25." Ibara shivered in the frigid December air and wrapped her arms instinctively together. She was halfway through her winter break internship with Kamui Woods now, and though she'd learned a great deal from the seventh-ranked hero, her costume, a simple white robe, was proving rather ill-suited for the weather.

No matter, Ibara reassured herself, dropping her hands back to her sides as she joined Kamui at the roof's edge. My trivial discomfort is nothing compared to the plight of these poor lost lambs, beset by fearsome wolves. Worry not, my children- I shall guide you away from harm.

"Looks like three hostiles… no, dammit, four." Kamui swore under his breath, then turned to Vine and handed her the pair of collapsible binoculars he'd been using. "Ah, um- sorry for the language."

"The Lord forgives," Ibara replied, using one hand to cross herself before she gazed through the binoculars. "But he does not forgive these sinners, and I shall be the instrument of his wrath."

The situation was just as dire as the frantic radio report had indicated- across the plaza, two security guards had been shot and left to bleed out on the snow-dusted stone steps leading up to the bank's entrance, and beyond its tall glass and metal doors, four armed criminals were moving about inside. Two seemed to be watching a small group of kneeling hostages, a mix of customers and employees, while two more looked to be using a laser cutter of some sort to slice a hole in the vault door. Two police cars were already parked in front of the bank, with several more on the way, but there was little the officers could do to intervene given the circumstances.

"Classic hostage scenario," Kamui declared with a sigh, shaking his head. "Lucky for us, though, that bank has skylights on the ceiling. If you can approach from the front and draw their attention, I'll come in from the top, grab the criminals and their guns while they're distracted."

"If I may, sir…" Shiozaki frowned, her eyebrows knit in concern. "I have the utmost respect for your Lacquered Chain Prison, but I can produce a much larger quantity of vines at once with my Via Dolorosa- enough to form a protective shield around the hostages while also seizing the perpetrators. I propose that our roles be swapped, if you'll allow it."

"I suppose that's true…" Kamui threw another glance at the bank, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. "I have complete confidence in your abilities, Vine, and we don't have much time to debate, but… Are you sure you'll be alright, throwing yourself into the middle of a situation like this? It's only been two months since-"

"Since Kiyashi, yes." Ibara shivered as another gust of wind buffeted her from behind, then clenched her hands into fists. "I assure you, sir, I won't falter in the face of evil- never again."

For a brief moment, memories of that day threatened to flash before her eyes- screams of terror and pain, rivulets of blood flowing along the marble floor as she and her classmates fled from Muscular and Moonfish, the same villains who'd terrorized them during their summer training camp months prior- but Ibara's mind was a steel cage, and with a deep breath of winter air, she locked it tight against all intruders.

"Alright." Kamui laid a hand on Vine's shoulder and gave her a firm nod of affirmation. "I trust you. Keep in constant radio contact- if you're in trouble, don't be afraid to ask for help."

"Worry not, sir." Ibara smiled, a sense of calm and serenity descending over her. "If I am in need of aid, the Lord shall provide."

"Well if he's taking too long to pick up the phone…" Kamui gave a soft chuckle, a bemused expression visible beneath his wooden mask. "Just remember that I'm here too, okay?"

A week ago, at the beginning of her internship, Ibara might have been offended by her mentor's attempt at humor, but by now, she'd spent enough time under Kamui's tutelage to know that he meant well; despite her instincts to the contrary, she felt a slight grin on her lips.

"Perhaps I'll mark you down as my emergency contact, sir."

A few short, nerve-wracking minutes later, Shiozaki was in position on the bank's roof, using two of her vines to clear a thin coating of snow from one of the pyramid-shaped skylight windows positioned directly above the main floor. As the view inside became clearer, she knelt down with a shiver and held up Kamui's binoculars; they were one of several choice items from his utility belt he'd lent her before they split up, along with a pair of stun grenades and a police-grade glass cutter.

Ideally, I won't need to use either of those, Ibara mused, lowering the magnification setting as the scene below came into focus once more. The two criminals watching the hostages were still in roughly the same positions as before, but the other two had broken all the way into the vault by know thanks to their laser cutter; from her current angle, she could just barely see them on the other side of the melted rectangular hole, frantically stuffing bundles of yen notes into a sack.

"I have eyes on all four of them," she declared in a hushed voice, holding two fingers to her earpiece. "Two of them are in the vault- if we move in now, I could seal them inside, keep them away from the hostages."

"That would be ideal," Kamui replied, the chatter of police officers audible in the background. "What's the situation with the window? Can you get it open quietly?"

"Just a moment, let me check." Ibara leaned over to inspect the latch, her brows furrowed. "It's just a conventional lock- shall I try your key?"

"By all means, go ahead. The robbers have already cut power to the bank's alarm system, so even if you need to force it, it won't be an issue."

Reaching to the pouch on her belt, Ibara produced another of the tools Kamui had supplied her with- a slender, four-centimeter piece of wood formed in the shape of a serrated skeleton key, snapped off from one of his branches.

"It's quite strange to be using a part of your body as an inanimate tool," Ibara declared, shivering again as she inserted the key and began to shift it back and forth in the lock as he'd instructed her. "It feels as if I'm holding your severed finger."

"Don't worry," Kamui replied with a chuckle, "it's not that morbid. Aside from my actual arms and hands, all the wood I create can be detached or broken off without any pain- it won't leak any blood on you, if that's what you're worried about."

"I certainly hope not- ah, got it." Shiozaki felt the key slide into the proper position with a quiet click, and one turn later, the latch was unlocked. "It's done, sir. I can open the skylight whenever you're ready."

"Alright, now or never. On my mark, start moving inside, as quietly as you can- I'll do my best to draw their attention. Three… two…" As Kamui began to count down, Ibara steeled herself once more, whispering a brief prayer under her breath. Lord, give me the strength to save them. "One… mark."

"Listen up, gentlemen!" Not a moment later, Kamui's voice rang out through the frigid December air, amplified by a megaphone. "This doesn't need to escalate! Release the hostages and drop your weapons, then come out of the building with your hands over your heads! We have you surrounded- you're not getting out of there any other way!"

On the other side of the window, Ibara could see the two criminals guarding the hostages shifting around beneath her, keeping their guns trained on the civilians as one of them shouted back a reply. Though she couldn't hear him at first through the glass, his words became faintly audible as Vine eased open the skylight open, praying all the while that its joints were well-oiled.

"…no way we're gonna listen to you while you still got a dozen cops waiting outside! We ain't releasing a single one of 'em until all of you motherfuckers clear outta here!"

Don't focus on Kamui's distraction, Ibara reminded herself, redirecting her attention back towards her half of the operation as she wrapped a pair of intertwined vines around a small chimney a few meters behind her. Once her anchor line was secure, Shiozaki wrapped her hands and feet around it, using the thorns as handholds, and began to lower herself headfirst into the bank's massive central chamber, moving a few careful centimeters at a time. Beneath her, she could see the entire room splayed out like a panorama- the entrance and the hostages to her left, the tellers' counter and the vault to her right. The building's design was neoclassical, the walls and floor opulent marble. Each minute sound seemed to reverberate through the room, but thankfully, Kamui's megaphone-enhanced shouting was still doing an excellent job of drowning out any noise Ibara might be making in the course of her descent.

I'll need to split up my vines, use them to accomplish all of my objectives at once. Grab the criminals and their guns, put a shield over the hostages- and it has to be nearly simultaneous. Steadily, cautiously, Shiozaki began to extend her vines out from her head in all directions, straining the upper limits of how many she could control at once; within a matter of moments, she was surrounded by a writhing, twisting sea of thorns ready to crash downwards at a moment's notice. She still needed to get closer before she launched her attack, though- the vines could only travel so fast compared to a bullet, and with lives on the line, there was no margin for error.

"You're gonna regret crossing us!" One of the criminals beneath her was shouting, pacing back and forth with the barrel of his assault rifle still loosely trained on the hostages; he was holding a radio up to his mouth, likely stolen from one of the dead security guards if the blood dripping from the cord was any indication. "You hear me, hero?! Nobody fucks with the White Tigers and lives, not anymore! You take one step closer, and we start blowing off these people's heads, just in time for the 6 o'clock news!"

White Tigers? Ibara frowned, squinting as she attempted to recall where she'd heard the name before. Ah, that's right- Kamui briefly mentioned them on the first day of the internship, in his overview of known criminal groups operating in his patrol area.

A single glance confirmed that the gang's leader was clearly its namesake as well; striding out of the vault with a with a bulging canvas bag of stolen bills slung over his shoulder, the man had the head of an albino tiger, white fur marked by black stripes- the same fur covered his muscular arms and legs as well, his wide, paw-like fingers tipped with imposing claws. The hulking laser cutter they'd used to break open the vault was attached to a gauntlet that spanned the length of his left wrist and forearm, and his chest, shoulders and torso were covered with plates of metallic body armor. The three henchmen, on the other hand, were wearing bulletproof vests of some sort, along with white tiger-striped cloth bandanas covering their mouths and high-tech electronic goggles covering their eyes.

Something's off, though, Ibara noted, her frown deepening. Kamui's notes said they were petty thieves and vandals, a decidedly small-time operation- they rob parked cars and empty apartments, not federal banks. Where did they get all this weaponry and technology? There was no indication that they possessed any firearms or support items of any kind.

"Shen, Lo!" The leader shouted, his voice laced with a feline growl as it echoed through the room. "We've got the cash- how many heroes are out there?"

"Just one, boss!" One of the men guarding the hostages glanced back across the chamber. "But tons of cops too!"

"This hero's bad news, though!" The other guard added, checking the shells in his shotgun's magazine as he paced anxiously across the tiled floors. "It's the tree guy- Kamui Woods! Ain't he in the top ten?"

"It doesn't matter if he is!" The tiger shouted back, his paws clenched into fists. "I don't care who they sent, just follow the plan and we'll all get outta here fine! Wei, check the motion tracker- make sure they're not sneaking anybody around the back entrance."

"It's on, boss, but I think it's broken." The henchman standing next to the tiger tapped at the screen of a small, handheld device that had begun to emit a faint yet incessant pinging sound. "Those jackass kids ripped us off when they sold us this thing- it's sayin' there's movement everywhere, all over the whole room. The entire goddamn screen's lit up."

Ibara's heart froze in her chest, a sheen of sweat glistening on her brow. Motion tracker? In an instant, she brought all of her vines to a complete stop, her knuckles gripped white around her anchor lines as she held herself in place.

"Vine," Kamui's voice whispered in her earpiece, quiet yet insistent. "It looks like they're distracted- if you have an opening, you're clear to move in. Don't worry, I'll cover you."

"Lemme see that damn thing," The tiger growled, holstering his pistol and snatching the tracker from his henchman. "You goddamn moron, what the hell are you talking about? The thing works fine- it's not showing any movement besides us and the cops out front!"

Still, Ibara's mind shouted to her body and her vines, a solemn command. Be still until he puts away the tracker. I'm not as low as I need to be- I have to get closer to them to ensure I can seize all their weapons in time, and I can't risk moving again while he's using that device.

"Byakko, man, I swear! It was lit up like a Christmas tree just a second ago, the thing's busted!"

"All the other tech they sold us works fine," Byakko snapped, pacing in a circle as he held the tracker out in different directions. "You just don't know how to work the damn thing, Wei." He handed the device back to his subordinate, then paused and rubbed at the fur on his exposed forearms. "Did one of you idiots cut power to the heating system? It's gettin' colder in here."

"Nah, boss, just the alarms."

"You sure? Feels like it's…"

The tiger trailed off just as Shiozaki began to lower herself again, willing her vines to be silent with every fiber of her being. The tracker had was pinging again in Wei's hands, but Byakko paid him no heed.

"Boss, it's doing it again- piece of friggin' junk!"

"Shut up." The gang leader's voice had grown deadly serious. A few moments passed in relative silence, broken only by Kamui's shouting and the faint sound of Byakko sniffing at the air. "Fucking hell, someone else is in here!"

Although the police would later determine that the following events took place in a matter of seconds, time seemed to slow down to a near-crawl from Ibara's perspective. Just as she launched her vines downward, Byakko's gaze shot up- their eyes met for a brief moment, his feline face a perfect picture of indignant rage. Forgoing his pistol, he held up his gauntlet and fired a white-hot beam of plasma up at her descending mass of vines, but he only succeeded in severing a handful of the tendrils before a mass of thorns slammed him into the floor and pinned his limbs to his sides. Wei, the henchman with the motion tracker, proved even easier to subdue- his rifle nearly slipped out of his hands as he threw the tracker aside and tried to take aim in a panic, and within the span of a heartbeat, she'd grabbed hold of his gun, bound his arms and legs, and hurled him against the wall like a ragdoll.

At the same time, multiple separate clusters of vines were streaking towards Shen and Lo, the two men guarding the hostages, along with her Faith's Shield, a sheet of bundled vines that could shape into a dome to guard the civilians against any attacks. The guns, I have to go for the guns first.

Ibara felt a fleeting gasp of relief escape her lips as her vines wrapped around the barrel of the nearer guard's shotgun and slammed it back against his face; one loud blast rang out before she tore it from his grasp entirely, but despite the hostages' panicked screams at the sound, the spray of pellets slammed harmlessly into the ceiling. Not a moment later, an additional group of vines wrapped around the man's arms and legs and hoisted him feet-first into the air, blood spilling from his broken nose, and Ibara turned to face her final target. The farthest of the four from her current position, he was clearly endowed with quick reflexes as well; in the split second before her dome of vines descended over the crowd of hostages, he had leaned down and seized one of them by the collar, dragging the young woman towards him and placing the barrel of his rifle against her head.

"Keep those fuckin' vines away from me!" The man bellowed, beads of sweat racing down his brow as he continued to back away from the forest of writhing thorns that had already seized his comrades. "I'll blow her goddamn brains out, I'll do it!"

"Stay your vile hand!"

In the span of a heartbeat, Ibara felt her stoic focus replaced by a sudden flare of fervent anger, surging through her veins like fire. Keeping her gaze fixed on the henchman, Shiozaki loosened her anchor vines, allowed herself to flip upright, and lighted down atop the tellers' counter- pure fury and resentment dripped from her every syllable, charged with righteous zeal.

"Release her, and you may know mercy. Harm her, and you shall face the wrath of the Lord."

Ibara's hands had clenched into trembling, white-knuckled fists, and cries of pain echoed across the room as her vines tightened instinctively around the three subdued villains; drops of crimson began to paint the floor beneath them as her thorns pierced their skin,

Filthy, filthy reprobate. You dare threaten my flock? You think me so weak as to reward your cowardice with freedom? My poor lambs are beset by wolves, and alas, there may be no choice but to cull the savage beasts.

Along with her anger, though, another emotion had begun to swell up inside Ibara's chest as she watched her captives struggle and writhe, watched the three steady streams of blood flowing towards her along the length of her vines: A rush of pure, undeniable bliss at visiting justice upon the unworthy.

No, no, that's not… That's not right. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying her best to expel the thoughts from her head. Such feelings would be improper. The Lord takes no pleasure in meting out his vengeance, and neither should I.

"The fuck are you talking about, psycho?" The henchman's gruff voice forced Ibara to focus back on the matter at hand; he had tightened his grip on the woman, wrapping an arm around her neck, and she let out a muffled yelp of fear. "Let me walk outta here or she dies, it's that simple!"

"The Lord punishes the wicked," Ibara declared, raising her upturned palms as her vines writhed and twisted above her head, a jagged crown of thorns. "Whosoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image."

Another series of pained cries from her captives punctuated Shiozaki's vow, hand in hand with another rush of delight, and Byakko let out a strained shout.

"Just go for the door and get the fuck outta here! This crazy bitch won't lay a goddamn finger on you as long as you-"

"Silence!"

Three vines lashed around the tiger's mouth before he could finish his sentence. Against her better judgement, Ibara found herself hoping that the thorns would lacerate Byakko's tongue; when a weak trickle of blood began to leak from his mouth moments later, another spark of joy lit up her chest from within.

"He's right, though." The fourth criminal let out a nervous chuckle, and glanced briefly at the exit before turning his gaze back towards Ibara. "You talk real big, but you can't back it up. I'm gonna walk through those doors, and you ain't gonna do jackshit about it, hero."

The man's words were swiftly proven true, in a certain sense. Not a moment after his declaration, the sound of shattering glass echoed through the room, accompanied by a cry of panic and another of pain. It was over before Ibara could even process what was happening; the rifle was hanging ten meters in the air, impaled on a spear of wood, its wielder was tightly bound in Kamui's Lacquered Chain Prison. The hostage, meanwhile, was kneeling on the floor, terrified and sobbing but unharmed. Kamui was still on the other side of the doors, but he'd used his quirk to pierce the glass in a dozen places at once, at a speed Ibara could hardly fathom. A closer look at the criminal's bloodied right hand indicated that his trigger finger had been gruesomely broken by the sheer force and speed with which the gun had been ripped from his grasp, and very nearly torn off entirely.

A just reward for his cowardice, Ibara mused, her lips tugging up into a smile as the man continued to wail in agony. Ah, what a lovely sound.

"Good work, Vine." Kamui's voice returned to her earpiece, and Shiozaki let out a deep breath as her fiery rage and bliss slowly faded, her heart still pounding feverishly in chest. "You kept him distracted long enough for me to move into position to strike. Are the others neutralized as well?"

"Yes, sir." Lowering herself from the counter to the marble floors on a platform of vines, Shiozaki strode towards the young woman who'd been held hostage, then knelt down and wrapped her in a tight embrace. "The building is secure. They're all safe now."

Ten minutes later, the civilians had all been evacuated, and the four perpetrators had been rounded up and taken into police custody, stripped of their gear and weapons. Reporters had begun to arrive on the scene, clamoring at the police line for interviews and candid reactions, but Ibara paid them no heed, sparing nothing more than a cursory glance out the shattered entryway before she turned back to face the crime scene. Drying droplets of blood were still visible scattered across much of the floor, and Ibara felt a shiver race up her spine at the sight, her cheeks flushed with color.

It's only natural to be satisfied with this outcome, but there's a line I mustn't cross- if I take genuine pleasure from such violence, righteous or otherwise, then I'm no worse than the sinners and heretics that I punish. When I return home, I shall seek guidance from the Lord, and accept penance if need be. Thirty lashes should serve as proper recompense, ten for each-

"Vine, you good?"

"Y-Yes, sir." Shiozaki gave a shaky nod in response to Kamui's inquiry, laying a hand across her red-flushed right cheek in a reflexive effort to conceal her shame. "Is there something you need from me?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I finish this paperwork," Kamui replied; mercifully, his gaze was still fixed on the clipboard in his hand. "There's a separate form I have to fill out because we both caused 'bodily harm' to the criminals- try and be careful with that going forward, okay? I know it's safest to knock them out and bind them tightly, but those thorns of yours can cause some serious damage if you're not careful. I'll be more cautious on my end as well."

"Yes, of course, sir. I won't let it happen again."

Liar, a quiet voice in the back of Ibara's mind whispered. Of course you will.

Shut up, shut up, shut up. A sharp, stabbing pain interrupted Shiozaki's stream of intrusive thoughts, and she blinked in surprise before glancing down at the source; acting unconsciously, she'd grabbed hold of one of her vines and wrapped it around her right hand, squeezing the thorns into her palm A bright red drop of blood flowed weakly from one of the dull purple bruises she'd created, tracing its way down her finger. Rather than shrinking away from the pain, though Ibara, grabbed hold of the vine once more- deliberately, this time- and shifted her hand behind one of the folds of her robe.

This is penance- as I shed blood, so must my blood be shed. These wicked thoughts must be tamed.

Desperate for a chance to focus on something other than the swirling torrent of guilt and uncertainty in her chest, Ibara turned to face at the collection of guns, support items, and body armor lying at their feet. Set at the center of the display was Byakko's laser cutter- judging from the sheer power output necessary to cut through the vault door's half-meter of reinforced steel and tungsten, it was by far the most dangerous item present.

"Do you have any idea where they could have acquired this kind of firepower and technology, sir? If I recall, your notes indicated that the White Tigers were primarily known for low-level petty thefts. They have a reputation for stealing TVs from vacant apartments, not for robbing guarded national banks."

"Good memory, Shiozaki." Kamui nodded, then perched one hand on his chin. "That's correct- they almost certainly didn't acquire this stockpile from simple burglaries. The most likely explanation is a new player on the local black market." Reaching for his belt, Kamui produced his cellphone and began to type out a text message. "I'm going to call a meeting with Edgeshot and Mount Lady, update them on the specifics. The police will be taking all this into evidence shortly, but there shouldn't be any problem with sharing the case file with the rest of Team Lurkers. If we're lucky, they might…" Kamui trailed off, his eyes widening in shock as he gazed down at the pile. "…What the hell?"

Shiozaki felt her own brows rise in confusion as well; all at once, every weapon, support item, and piece of armor lying before them had suddenly begun to smoke and fizzle, crackling with weak sparks of electricity. A few brief moments later, they started to collapse- the metal was simply dissolving, as if the entire collection had been dunked in a vat of acid. After a mere ten seconds, nothing but a pile of ash remained.

"Well then, Vine…" Kamui let out a sigh, then waved over one of the detectives. "I hope you don't have any plans for the evening, because we might be working overtime tonight. This case just got a lot more complicated."

"As of late, 'Vine' has begun to seem a bit trite." Shiozaki unclenched her right hand, then reached up and ran her fingers along her thorny hair, her mouth fixed in a frown. "I know less is more, but it runs the risk of being too simplistic, I fear."

"Time for a name change, huh?" Kamui threw a curious glance in her direction as he handed off his clipboard to one of the detectives. "Have anything in mind?"

"One's hero name should reflect who they wish to be, the role to which they aspire. When I take that to mind, only one truly fits." Ibara felt a wide smile spread across her face as she gazed through the broken glass of the entrance to the crowd gathered outside. "I am their Shepherdess."

---

Chuo Ward, Hero Public Safety Commission Headquarters

Ninety Minutes before Scimitar's Broadcast

For all the dozens of heroes that had been summoned to the Public Safety Commission's headquarters- the range of personalities and celebrities from Mount Lady to Yoroi Musha, Ms. Joke to Gang Orca, Fatgum to Snipe- the spacious, high-ceilinged conference room remained remarkably quiet as the attendees shuffled through the tall wooden doors and began to take their seats- almost unnervingly so, by Setsuna's standards. Aside from a few hushed whispers and Shiozaki Ibara's quiet, murmured prayers, both of which slowly faded as the crowd of heroes dispersed around a large, u-shaped table, the only sound came from the throngs of protestors on the streets below them. Even through the thick safety glass of the chamber's floor-to-ceiling windows, their muffled shouts were still faintly audible, a chorus of spite and vitriol.

Between the crowd of detractors surrounding the building on all sides, the barricade of defenders holding the line before the entrance, and the three- no, four armed guards that Setsuna had counted standing watch just outside the conference room, the Safety Commission's tower stronghold had the distinct air of a fortress under siege, and she hardly seemed to be the only one who'd noticed. Grim, jaded looks were the norm among the heroes in attendance, even among those usually known for their sunny personalities: Nejire, Fatgum, Ms. Joke. Lemillion, for one, remained relatively upbeat, but his smile was clearly beginning to wear thin as well following the incident outside with Cellophane.

Under siege, and the attackers aren't even the Syndicate. Tokage shook her head in frustration and ran a hand down her face; try as she might, she still couldn't force herself to forget the man from the train, the pure, seething disdain in his voice and his eyes. This is exactly what they wanted, isn't it? Ordinary people, doing their work for them.

As for the table, each space was marked with a placard designating its occupant in neat black characters, along with a small, table-mounted microphone and a glass of water. While Reptilia detached an eye to search for her hero name, President Kengen strode across the room and drew to a halt directly before the windows, gazing down at the mob below with both hands clasped behind her back. Above her, a dimming curtain had begun to descend over the interior of the glass, meant perhaps to protect the meeting from watchful eyes, or perhaps to shield the attendees from the glare of the sun; it was hanging midway up in the sky directly ahead of them, perfectly aligned between a gap in the office buildings further down the block. For a few brief moments, the president's body was silhouetted against the blinding yellow light, but the glare was soon rendered tolerable thanks to the tint of the curtain- the sun had been reduced to a dull orange disc suspended above Kengen's head.

"Yo, Setsuna." A tap on the shoulder dragged Reptilia back to reality; Reiko, gazing at her through a part in her heavy silver-white bangs. "I found your spot- you're over there with Lemillion and Jeanist."

"Oh, nice! Thanks, Rei."

"Looks like I'm with 'em too," Juzo added, squinting towards the placards as he stepped up beside them. "I guess they're putting all the Fenrir members together."

It quickly became clear that most of the heroes were similarly grouped: The four graduates who'd attended the previous meeting with President Kengen were all seated at one end of the 'U', and several now-former U.A. teachers in attendance had been placed together as well. Setsuna counted Ectoplasm, Snipe, Power Loader, Hound Dog, and Cementoss; curiously, there was a sixth spot beside Snipe, but it was empty, with no placard.

I wish I'd had a chance to ask them about Present Mic before the meeting started, Setsuna mused. Last I heard, he's still in the hospital, but he should be able to make a full-

Screams, blood, laughter. Another image of Kamakiri flashed through her mind, the same as before- watching Jack Mantis' double from above, cackling gleefully as his blade cleaved through Mic's directional speaker with a spurt of crimson and a burst of electricity.

Stop, just stop. Get the fuck out of my head. Biting furiously into her tongue in an effort to keep the anger from showing on her face, Setsuna shifted her gaze back away from the teachers, forcing herself to focus on someone, anyone else. Alright, come on, come on. Who else is here again?

Aside from the major groups, heroes and their sidekicks were also paired together, with Poltergeist next to Majestic, Nejire next to Ryukyu, and Awase- now designated by his relatively new hero name, Forgemaster- alongside Yoroi Musha and Epicenter. Of the other sidekicks, only Cellophane and Glamourous lacked a corresponding hero mentor.

I can get why Cellophane's flying solo, Setsuna noted, frowning, but what's with Camie? She just started working for Midnight, right? With Kuroiro and Kaibara? Even more curiously, Camie was seated on the other side of the empty seat adjacent to the U.A. teachers; they had noticed the oddity as well, if the confused murmurs passing between them were any indication. Maybe Midnight was supposed to come, but she had to cancel at the last minute or something.

Around the room, the last of the stragglers had finally settled into their seats, and the sounds of tentative chatter had begun to start up again. Reptilia, for her part, was between Lemillion and Mudslide, with Best Jeanist and Mount Lady further down the table to her left- just as she began to turn to greet them, though, a sharp spike of feedback shot through the overhead speakers, followed by a familiar, distinctly exhausted voice.

"Testing, testing… apologies for that, ladies and gentlemen."

Mera Yokumiru, the beige-haired, tired-eyed Safety Commission official who Reptilia had first met during her posting at one of Toga Himiko's interrogation sessions a few days prior, was hunched forward over his mic, and tapped at it a few times to clear the feedback before holding a hand over his mouth to muffle a loud yawn. If anything, he looked more tired than when she'd last seen him, a feat that hardly seemed possible.

Is this guy just everywhere? I swear, I feel like he makes up 50% of the Commission's permanent staff- no wonder he never gets any sleep.

"These systems are always a bit finnicky when we start them up," Mera continued, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes, "so you'll have to excuse us for any minor audio hiccups for the time being. Now, before we can officially begin the briefing, recent events have compelled us to take several new security measures, in addition to the scanners downstairs."

Mera gestured to one of the guards by the doors, who promptly produced a metal box and began to make his way toward the conference table.

"My apologies once again, but a good deal of the intelligence we'll be reviewing is rated Top Secret. For the duration of the briefing, you'll need to surrender your cellphones and any other electronic devices on your person." Mera paused to stifle another yawn, then glanced back down at the clipboard in his hands. "Please make sure to power them off before you hand them over, or we'll have to do so ourselves."

Damn, so it's that type of meeting, huh? Setsuna felt her eyes widen briefly, but given the intensive scans they'd all been subjected to on their way into the building, and the badges they'd all been given afterwards, the measure wasn't too much of a surprise. Interim Security Clearance, the card's label read, in bold black characters. Grade-TS3, Professional Hero 'Reptilia'. A small photo of Setsuna's smiling face was visible in the corner above her hero name- the picture from her Provisional License, by the look of it. Damn, I wish they'd just offered to take a new one- I've never been a fan of this pic. My smile looks goofy as hell, and I've got a friggin' cowlick on one side of my hair. How did I not notice it?

On either side of her, Lemillion and Mudslide had already produced their phones without a moment of hesitation, and Reptilia quickly followed suit, scrambling to power it off before the guard reached her. Around the table, the reaction was largely the same- several heroes turned over wireless earpieces and radios as well, and Poltergeist assisted with the process by levitating a dozen phones into the bin at once. As far as Setsuna could tell, only Camie seemed somewhat hesitant to hand hers over, gazing up at the guard with wide doe eyes.

"Please be supes careful with it, okay? I have, like, a gazillion photos on there that I still haven't backed up. If it got broken, I think I would literally die."

"They'll be careful, darling." Ryukyu gave Glamourous a comforting pat on the shoulder, then glanced further down the table, where Gale Force, Shemage, Magnify, and Shepherdess- the four who'd been in a previous meeting with the president- all showed no sign of reaching into their pockets. "You too, kids, let's not keep them waiting."

"We already turned ours over earlier," Kodai replied, nodding respectfully in the pro's direction. "No need to worry."

Next to Kodai, Shiozaki looked to be praying again, her hands clasped together, and Tokage felt a frown cross her face. I hate being in the dark about what's going on with them, but I know the security measures are there for a good reason. At the end of the day, I just need to trust them, and trust the Commission.

Unbidden, an image of Kamakiri flashed once more across her mind's eye- of the dejected and despondent look on his face as two Safety Commission agents escorted him to Nezu's office, and of the indignant fury that she'd watched build inside him after he received his suspension. Setsuna's own words rang through her head as well, as clear and earnest as the moment she'd spoken them: 'Look, people aren't being fair to you, I know that. The Commission, our own classmates, the school…'

No, this is different, Tokage reassured herself, biting the inside of her lip in silent frustration as the guard finished collecting the last of their phones. Sure, maybe those two particular agents were dicks, but it's not like that means the whole Commission is tainted because of them. The prez knows what she's talking about- hell, this whole meeting might be about a plan to rescue Kamakiri. If she doesn't mention him by the end, I'll definitely ask.

A few moments later, the guards had finished their device collection, and the metal box was sealed and code-locked before being whisked from the room. Another wave of uneasy silence broke upon the chamber the moment the doors slammed shut, and the air grew even stiller when Mera held out a small, handheld remote and tapped a button; suddenly, the sound of shouting from outside was dampened by a significant degree, reduced to an almost inaudible hum.

"We're fully secured, ma'am."

Mera straightened up his posture and gave President Kengen a respectful nod; in response, she finally turned away from the windows to face the assembled heroes, and Reptilia shivered out of reflex under the hawklike intensity of her gaze. By now, the sun was almost directly behind her head, a glowing amber halo that cast her face in shadow as she began to speak.

"Some time ago, not far from here, a young man failed an exam that he desperately wanted to pass."

The president's tone was measured and calm, but still cut through the air as keenly as a knife; a small microphone pinned to her lapel amplified her voice through the room's speakers, so that it seemed to be coming from every direction.

"He was devastated, distraught, disillusioned. Withdrawing from public life, he blamed his failure on the government- on the nature of the society he lived in. And according to the records kept by those closest to him, it was after the trauma of this failure that the young man suffered what our medical professionals might label a 'psychotic break'."

Kengen had begun to move now, striding slowly across the room until she reached the center of the u-shaped table.

"His personality changed, and along with his resentment towards authority, he began to experience delusions of grandeur, ascribing himself with divine, religious attributes. He came to believe that only he was capable of 'saving' his nation, and one by one, beginning with just a handful of his close friends and acquaintances, people began to sympathize with his grievances- to pledge themselves to his cause."

The president took a long, deliberate pause, and Reptilia felt her eyes drifting instinctively to the windows again- to the crowd below, muted but still visible through the curtain as they brandished their signs and slogans.

"He traveled across the nation, preaching the need to overthrow the current social order- to purge 'evil' and 'corruption' from the halls of power, and create a paradise for the common man."

Scorn and contempt had begun to seep into the president's voice; her brows had knit together, her gaze hardening.

"By all accounts, he was a charismatic individual; by playing to their emotions, their fears and their prejudices, he and his followers were able to manipulate thousands of ordinary people into joining their cause, and into believing that he had their best interests at heart. Civilians of all stripes flocked to join him by the hundreds, then the thousands, then the tens of thousands- farmers and merchants, wealthy businessmen, and naturally, a wide array of criminals and misanthropes, eager for any chance to undermine the rule of law no matter the specific tenets and ideology of the cause. And indeed, the values and morals that the group claimed to uphold didn't matter in the end. They never did. From the beginning, the movement revolved around a single, disillusioned young man's boundless ego and megalomania, enabled by the gullible and the opportunistic."

Another pause, and a sigh; some of the president's contempt faded, replaced by exasperation and disappointment.

"The government's response to this group's rise to prominence was an all-too-predictable tale. They marshaled their forces and attempted to intimidate the young man's converts into submission, threatening them with harsh punishments if they refused to disband. And so, nearly overnight, what had merely been quiet frustration with the authorities turned into open revolt. With every attempt to crack down on the rebels, every effort to quash their movement with brute force, the government created more resentment towards its actions, drove more and more of its people into the arms of the enemy. The civil war that followed would ravage the country for fourteen long and painful years of bloodshed- all sparked by the words and actions of one individual."

Kengen glanced back and forth across the room, meeting the gaze of nearly every hero at the table in turn.

"That young man was named Hong Xiuquan, and by the time China put down his Taiping Rebellion in 1864, thirty million people, most of them civilians, had perished in one of the single bloodiest conflicts in human history."

An eerie silence followed the president's words, and across the room, Setsuna could see expressions of doubt and discomfort. Kengen seemed to notice as well, judging by the brief flash of concern in her eyes.

"I do not tell you this story to frighten you, nor to imply with any certainty that the same horrific events will come to pass here in Japan. I tell it to illustrate in concrete, tangible terms the tragic consequences that can arise from a single, determined individual's vendetta against authority, if that authority fails in their response. To remind you of the gravity of the peril we face, and of the bloody price this nation could pay if we do not triumph against it. A thousand differences, small and large, separate Midoriya Izuku's Syndicate from Hong Xiuquan's uprising, but all too often, the proverb rings true- that those who forget history are doomed to repeat it."

A familiar, creeping sense of dread had been slowly building up in Setsuna's chest as the president spoke, and her reassurance did little to abate it. All the same, though, Reptilia forced herself to stay focused on Kengen's words- to stop herself from picturing the dire future she was warning of.

"I will not insult your intelligence with platitudes and euphemisms, nor will I attempt to bely the severity of our current situation." The president's expression softened, her tone solemn and respectful. "You've all made sacrifices in one way or another since this conflict began, and I suspect you'll all make many more by the time it's over. As the president of this commission, I owe all of you the truth."

Though it likely lasted all of a few seconds, the pause that followed seemed to drag on for longer than all the others combined- as Setuna waited for Kengen to continue, she had to remind herself to breathe.

"Given the current trend of devastating, highly publicized defeats at the hands of the Syndicate and the steep decline in public confidence in the hero system and the government alike, many high-ranking politicians and government officials fear that we are on the verge of mass-scale societal upheaval unless immediate corrective action is taken. Internal projections indicate the potential for nationwide strikes, riots in major cities, escalating violence towards heroes, and a rapidly growing movement of radicalized Syndicate supporters."

Until now, the heroes seated around the table had remained silent as the president spoke, their responses only made evident by their expressions- this time, though, an immediate wave of shocked murmurs swept through the room, along with a few whispered profanities. Even Setsuna couldn't stop the quiet 'Fuck' that rolled almost unconsciously off her tongue- thankfully, though, her colleagues were far too distracted to notice. To her left, Lemillion's mouth had fallen open, his calm façade briefly cracking; Yoroi Musha slammed an armored first down onto the table in silent anger, Majestic ran one hand down his face with a heavy sigh, and Glamourous, for her part, distinctly resembled a deer caught in headlights, her eyes wide and unblinking. Nejire reached up to massage her temples in response to what looked to be a piercing headache, her mouth turned down in an uncharacteristic scowl, and Epicenter gripped his hands together, the muscles on his arms and chest tensing visibly as he tried without success to hide his frustration.

As soon as she recovered from her own sense of shock, though, Reptilia's eyes darted immediately and instinctively to the faces of her fellow U.A. alumni, watching for their reactions. Awase and Juzo looked ready to vomit, while Reiko and Sero both wore the expression of someone who'd just been slapped squarely in the face. Only Kinoko, Ibara, and Yui- the three who'd already met with the president- didn't seem taken aback. They were all undeniably somber, but they lacked any of the surprise and frantic dismay that the rest of the room was currently displaying, and the same rang true for Yoarashi- his eyes were practically glazed over beneath the shadow of his cap, a thousand-yard stare.

Did they already get this speech earlier? But why the separate treatment if we're all in the same briefing now? If she really 'owes us the truth', what did they get to hear that we don't?

"It's been only five weeks since the Black Day, but there are already some voices in the cabinet- fearful, reactionary voices- who already wish to respond in the same way the Qing Dynasty responded to Hong Xiuquan and his followers- with blunt, indiscriminate force."

The urgency in Kengen's words quickly diverted Setsuna's attention away from her classmates and back to the president- mostly stoic thus far, her voice was now tinged with genuine concern.

"During the last cabinet meeting I attended- an emergency session convened in response to the so-called 'Commencement' attack on U.A.- some of the proposed responses included the declaration of a national state of emergency, the imposition of martial law in Tokyo and Yokohama, and the activation of the military as the primary response force for future Syndicate attacks, given the current impression that heroes are incapable of properly responding to the threat. Ministers also urged the PM to immediately criminalize any speech or assembly that expresses support for the Syndicate, and to empower police officers and heroes to arrest any alleged Syndicate agents or sympathizers without cause or warrant, two ideas that were met with a concerningly warm reception."

More than one hero attempted to speak up in reply, but Kengen silenced most of them with a wave of her hand, pushing forward through the small chorus of interruptions.

"Judging by their rhetoric and their apparent affection for psychological warfare- their repeated attempts to incite the populace with bursts of online propaganda, to transform terrorism and mass murder into a spectator sport- I believe that this is the exact response the Syndicate is hoping for, as many of you no doubt wish to inform me. A heavy-handed application of military and political power that would feed perfectly into their narratives of an incompetent, repressive government, and a corrupt hero system that acts only to enforce the status quo. And so, along with several other moderate ministers and advisers, I have repeatedly attempted to convince the prime minister of the foolishness of this course of action- of the historical precedent for a catastrophic backfire, and the continued need for a more cautious and measured approach- but this faction is rapidly shrinking, and we can only ward off the reactionaries for so long."

Kengen crossed her arms and shrugged her shoulders, a sympathetic expresssion flashing across her face.

"In a sense, I understand their fear. When the municipal curfews and random ID check measures were proposed after Okinawa, I agreed to help implement them- like the other ministers, I was unnerved by the sheer speed of the Syndicate's advance, and ready to cling to any liferaft I could find. Our economy is plummeting headfirst into a recession thanks to Pandora's doomsday theories about financial collapse- the stock market has been falling for weeks, and consumer confidence is at rock bottom. Our Symbol of Peace has been slain, our beacon of hope extinguished and his chosen successor humiliated at her own graduation ceremony. And with each loss we suffer, each national icon attacked and each fallen hero, more and more begin to clamor for 'easy' solutions. And what, after all, is easier than turning to the military? They're simply another brand of 'heroes', after all."

The president turned to face the windows, and her gaze drifted once more to the mob stretching out beneath the base of the tower. Her brows had drawn together again, but not in anger- as far as Setsuna could tell, she was trying to remember something. The attempt proved successful a few moments later, judging by the spark of recollection in her eyes; Kengen reached up and cleared her throat, then glanced back towards the table and began to speak in a formal, recitational tone.

"Revolutions happen not upon every little mismanagement in public affairs. Great mistakes in the ruling part, many wrong and inconvenient laws, and all the slips of human frailty, will be borne by the people without mutiny or murmur. But if a long train of abuses, prevarications, and artifices, all tending the same way, make the design visible to the people, they cannot but feel what they lie under, and see wither they are going… it is not to be wondered that they should then rouse themselves, and endeavor to put the rule into such hands may secure to them the ends for which government was first erected."

Kengen let out a grim chuckle, shaking her head in quiet disappointment.

"It's a shame that most my colleagues on the cabinet have so little patience for reading anything other than the front page of the morning paper and their latest approval ratings. It seems to me that a good many people in this government could benefit from a bit of John Locke."

To Reptilia's left, Best Jeanist nodded slowly in understanding, and leaned down towards his mic.

"The aim of government is the good of mankind. And which is best for mankind- that the people should be always exposed to the boundless will of tyranny, or that the rulers should sometimes be opposed, when they grow exorbitant in the use of their power, and employ it for the destruction, rather than the preservation, of the properties of their people?"

Kengen gave a soft, sad smile in reply, though it quickly faded back to a grimace.

"You're as well-read as ever, Tsunagu. That, indeed, is the outcome we must prevent, which brings me once more to the urgency of this meeting. To put it bluntly, it seems to me that the next major anti-Syndicate operation we undertake may be our last chance- the last chance for heroes to reverse the course of this conflict before the reins are handed over to the generals, and soldiers begin to march through the streets of Tokyo. Before the train of mistakes and abuses grows too long for the people to endure."

The president paused once again, but no objections or profanities filled the air this time- over the past few minutes, it was as if the entire room had been numbed to shock.

"It has become abundantly clear to in recent days me that my previous response to the Syndicate- Strike Team Fenrir, an elite task force of a dozen top heroes and sidekicks- is no longer sufficient for the scale of this mission. In fact, its small size and limited operational capabilites were actively undermining our efforts. Our greatest advantage over the Syndicate is our sheer numbers, and it's past time that we put them to use."

The president turned to face the wall behind her, most of which was occupied be a massive, flatscreen monitor. Powered off until now, the monitor flashed to life after a few taps by Mera on the glass screen of a handheld datapad; for the moment, it simply displayed a blank white screen with the seal of the Hero Public Safety Commission in the center.

"Over the next few days," Kengen declared, her voice suddenly rising in volume, "the Public Safety Commission will begin mobilizing approximately one thousand heroes from every corner of the country in preparation for Operation Wild Hunt- a decapitation strike aimed at luring the Syndicate out of hiding, entrapping their forces, and neutralizing the following individuals at all costs."

The blank screen was swiftly replaced by five all-too-familiar portraits: Midoriya Izuku, Yaoyorozu Momo, Monoma Neito, Bubaigawara Jin, and Kurogiri.

Yep, that checks out, Reptilia, mused, frowning. The leader, the three most dangerous quirks, and the one who can copy them all. A heavy weight pressed down on Setsuna's chest at the sight of Monoma and Yaoyorozu, but compared to some of her classmates, she'd never been particularly close to either of them over the few short months they'd known each other.

I feel worse for Awase. Her eyes flitted over to Forgemaster, who currently looked as if he'd just taken a blow to the stomach, his mouth fixed in a grimace. He saved Yaoyorozu's life that night she was taken at the summer camp, and now she's basically public enemy number one. A shiver made its way up Setsuna's spine as she recalled a recent article from a major newspaper that branded Pandora 'The Most Dangerous Villain in Recorded History', and included an extensive list of the horrific weapons of mass destruction she was capable of creating. It had been taken down by the government after a few hours for 'spreading misinformation' and 'inciting panic', but not before receiving over twenty million views; archived copies of its content were still circulating the web in defiance of the censors.

"The men and women in this room," Kengen continued, "along with the other members of Strike Team Fenrir, will comprise the mission's vanguard- you'll be spread out at key locations across the country, coordinating local response teams. If we're assembling an army, then you'll be the generals. But before we review the fine details of Operation Wild Hunt, Deputy Policy Director Mera Yokumiru and I will be conducting an autopsy of our anti-Syndicate efforts to date- determining why they've all been more or less dead on arrival, and which key areas which this new counteroffensive must improve upon. He'll also aid in the presentation of our compiled intelligence on the group's members, motives, and activities, from their inception to their current status post-Commencement."

"Thank you, ma'am." Leaning back towards his microphone, Mera reached down and adjusted it towards him, then paused to glance down at his watch. "Would you like to bring in our guest first, though? I believe she's already on standby."

"Ah, yes- thank you for the reminder. Is everything ready for her?"

"Yes, ma'am." Mera glanced down at his datapad, scrolling across the screen with one finger. "We have a secure connection to Anchorage."

"Good- start the call."

Moments later, though, the four pictures of their Syndicate targets were replaced by two logos on a grey background, both distinctly unfamiliar to Reptilia. Summoning up her English lessons, she began to scan the accompanying text with only a few brief moments of difficulty.

Pacific Air Forces, the first logo read, beneath a blue shield embossed with a white globe, a golden pair of wings, and a lightning bolt. The second logo was certainly more eye-catching- a snarling polar bear head and a gold star on a blue circle- and though the text accompanying it was a bit more complex, it was still manageable. Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, the letters spelled, Anchorage, Alaska.

Huh? Alaska? Why are we calling someone from…

"Our apologies for making you hop onto a call so late." Kengen had switched to English now, speaking with polished fluency; Tokage leaned forward and strained her ears to make sure she caught every syllable. "Can you hear me, Cathy?"

"Loud and clear, ma'am!" The voice at the other end of the line was a woman's, loud and eager, though still bodiless- Setsuna couldn't help but feel that she'd heard it somewhere before. Moments later, a faint red light flickered to life, next to the lens of a small camera mounted on the wall just above the screen. "I can see you guys just fine too, just bear with me while I try to get this damn camera working… There we go."

As the logos vanished and the speaker's image filled the screen, Setsuna felt her heart leap in shock; for a brief moment, she was utterly convinced that she was seeing a ghost. Long tufts of golden blonde hair, a broad, chiseled jaw- who else could they belong to but him? But as the woman's voice echoed through the room again, Reptilia finally realized who they were speaking to.

"Star and Stripe, reporting for duty." America's number one hero snapped a gloved hand up into a salute, a wide, beaming smile on her face. "Ready to kick some Syndicate ass."

Holy shit.

"I know that some of you have already met her," The president continued, switching back to Japanese, "but for those who haven't, it is my great pleasure to introduce Cathleen Bate, better known as Star and Stripe. As soon as her deployment date is set, she'll be joining Operation Wild Hunt as part of the vanguard."

"Nice to meet all of you!" Star added, waving at the camera. "I've been working on my Japanese, so here's hoping I don't screw up too bad." Bate had switched languages now as well; her Japanese seemed fairly advanced, though she did retain a rather endearing American accent as she spoke. "I hope I can see you all in person soon- I've been telling the brass to send me over there for weeks, but there was some business I needed to take care of first." Star's smile faded, and she ran a hand along her gold-dyed hair. "I was in the middle of a deep-cover op when All Might was killed- they had me taking down a cell of those Humarise bastards. The moment the mission ended, I was ready to fly across the Pacific and put my fist through Seraph's face, but…" Bate let out a heavy sigh. "We've just been dealing with one villain crisis after another lately over here in the States- I'm sure don't need to tell you guys about 'duty-first', but I had to make sure my country and our troops were safe before I dropped everything and hopped halfway around the world."

Setsuna could vaguely recall seeing a few brief snippets on the news about a string of high-casualty villain attacks in America and Europe, in addition to significant military tensions in the latter, but the Japanese media had been so preoccupied with wall-to-wall Syndicate coverage for the past month that she had only a faint idea of what was happening in the rest of the world. Jesus, I need to brush up on my current events if I don't wanna end up looking like a total moron in front of the pros. Better to leave that to Kaminari.

"Okinawa changed everything, though," Star declared, snapping Reptilia back to the present. "I already had it out for the Syndicate after what they did to All Might, but invading a U.S. military base? Killing our marines, hacking our computers?" Bate's expression had darkened, her blonde brows drawn together in anger. "They made things personal, as far as I'm concerned. The news didn't rock the boat too hard in the States- people are distracted with everything that's happening on the homefront- but it helped me make my case to the right people. The Syndicate aren't just a threat to Japan, they're a threat to America too- and to the world, if they decide to take their operations international."

Cathy leaned back and jerked a thumb towards her surroundings; she looked to be sitting in a conference room of some sort, with a few uniformed American officers watching the call in the background. A much larger version of the roaring polar bear logo was emblazoned on the wall behind her, beneath the words 'Arctic Warriors'.

"I've been stationed in Alaska for the past week to keep an eye on the Russians in case they try anything else after what they pulled off the Aleutians last month, but the word came down yesterday- the military's approved my deployment to Japan, along with some ships and a whole load of fighter jets. My mandate, and I quote…" Star puffed out her chest in pride, fiery resolve in her eyes. "Free David and Melissa Shield, assist the Japanese government in apprehending the terrorist organization responsible for the deaths of six U.S. marines, and retrieve the classified data that was stolen from Okinawa. And on top of that, I've got my own personal mission statement: bring the coward who killed my hero to justice."

Bate put a particularly lethal dose of venom into the word 'coward', and Setsuna felt another chill race up her spine. Well, I can tell that she and Kendo are gonna have a lot to bond over.

"The exact date's still up on the air, but President Kengen was kind enough to offer to loop me in on your big new operation, so I'll be all up to speed when I get there."

"Here's hoping that they'll set that deployment date sooner rather than later," Kengen replied, a soft smile on her face as she gazed up at the camera's lens. "We're all looking forward to welcoming you and your team, Cathy. And now that you're here, I can hand things over to Deputy Director Mera."

"Yes, I'll be the class's history teacher for today." A brief hint of bemusement at his own joke crossed Mera's face, but it faded just as quickly, and he shifted back into his usual droning and monotonous style of speech. "While they may not have been known to the general public until recently, the Syndicate's file first crossed our desks here at the Safety Commission nearly two and a half years ago. That December, during a botched bank robbery attempt that had turned into a hostage situation, Kamui Woods and Shepherdess apprehended a local gang of petty thieves known as the 'White Tigers'."

Mera nodded in Shiozaki's direction, and Tokage turned to face her classmate as well, memories racing through her head. The White Tigers… god, that was during our first year, in the middle of winter break. Ibara made the local news when she and Kamui busted them, and all the Class B girls took her out to dinner to celebrate.

"Almost immediately following their arrest, though, it became apparent that the Tigers had been supplied with the weapons, armor, and support items they used for the robbery from a third-party source." Mera glanced down and swiped a finger across his pad- a picture of guns, body armor, and other tech piled together on tiled marble floor was projected up onto the monitor, minimizing Star's live feed to the corner of the screen. "They seemed to be of an unknown, custom make and model, not visually consistent with the work of any manufacturer on file. But before we could bring them in for a more thorough examination, they 'self-destructed', for lack of a better term." A second picture followed- the same pile of evidence as before, reduced to sparking black dust. "We pay close attention to the arms trade, and this seemed to be a new player, as far as we could tell. The Commission directed Kamui and Shepherdess to open an investigation, and we gave the mystery supplier a codename- 'Arisaka'."

"I recall Kamui discussing that investigation." Majestic leaned forward, one hand perched on his chin. "Arisaka gave him quite a bit of trouble at the time. You're saying they were actually the Syndicate all along?"

"That is the Commission's current assessment, with the benefit of hindsight." Shiozaki took the stage with her usual serenity and grace, leaning towards her microphone with her hands steeped together atop the table. "As Deputy Mera stated, it was clear at the time that the White Tigers had procured their arms from a third party, and their leader subsequently confessed as much during his interrogation. They were unaware of the actual identity or location of the sellers, though." Ibara closed her eyes and shook her head, an expression of disappointment briefly interrupting her tranquil demeanor. "The Tigers were approached through an intermediary- a man we eventually identified as Giran, a well-known arms and personnel broker. They knew frustratingly little about the suppliers themselves, though, aside from the fact that they were young and secretive. Of course, Giran himself proved quite elusive- without him, there was no way to track down the source."

"When I saw Kamui's report," President Kengen cut in, her arms crossed, "I assumed that this 'Arisaka' was simply another in a long line of small-time weapon and support item smuggling rings, bringing advanced technology in from overseas. As unique as the self-destructing weapons were, I never assigned more than a few token resources to the investigation- this was just two months after the Kiyashi Massacre, and I was still hellbent on bringing the League to justice. Needless to say, nearly all of our top heroes were part of the search efforts. I pulled Kamui Woods and Shepherdess off the Arisaka investigation after just a month, handed the evidence they'd collected to a few small-time local agencies, and moved on. I distinctly remember telling myself that we had 'bigger fish to fry'."

Kengen let out a bitter chuckle as she ran one hand along her greying hairline.

"Suffice to say, I was quickly proven the fool. Over the next year, Arisaka's trademark weapons and support items began to appear in cities across the nation with increasing frequency, accompanying a sharp spike in violent crime. And even more disturbingly, we had reason to suspect a partnership between our mysterious weapons smugglers and the League of Villains; during their interrogations, criminals captured with Arisaka tech were claiming to have seen Dabi, Mustard, Twice, Spinner, and others acting as security at the sales."

"Around the same time," Mera added, "we began to receive reports that the League was being attacked by an unknown rival organization- heroes found scenes of devastation and bloodshed at sites determined to be their former bases, signs that their Nomu were being killed in combat. It took us months to realize that the 'rival' and Arisaka were one and the same, and that Toga, Dabi, Mustard, and the others had already betrayed Shigaraki and defected."

Mera paused to clear his throat, and took a sip from his glass of water before continuing.

"Approximately seven months ago, we decided to step up our response, and turned to the Top Ten. Edgeshot, Yoroi Musha, and Ryukyu were each assigned one aspect of the Arisaka investigation: Edgeshot took charge of the effort to locate the mystery members and their base of operations, Ryukyu focused on tracking the movements of the former League members, and Yoroi Musha began to close in on Giran and the weapon sales themselves, with the goal of setting up a sting operation."

Setsuna felt her gaze drift unconsciously over to the two members of that trio currently present in the room- Ryukyu had lowered her eyes to the table in quiet shame, while Yoroi Musha's hands were balled into fists. In the center of the table, Kengen let out a sigh, her hands planted on her hips and her brows knit in frustration.

"We provided them with all the support and intelligence they asked for, but all the while, we continued with our base assumption: that Arisaka was a run-of-the-mill criminal organization, motivated entirely by profit. You're all aware how that turned out for us. It took the horror of the battle at Yokohama- a Top Ten pro held and tortured, two young heroes abducted and two more severely wounded, the revelation of Arisaka's partnership with the Eight Precepts- for me to finally realize how gravely I had underestimated the threat. And by then, their plan for the Black Day was already in motion."

Across the table, Setsuna watched as Ryukyu leaned over and laid a comforting hand on Nejire's back, whispering something in her ear as Hado bristled at the mention of Yokohama; a few seats over, Gang Orca looked visibly deflated by the reminder, but perked up again after a similar gesture from Fatgum.

"We'll be running through each engagement our heroes have fought with the Syndicate in detail," Mera declared, his eyes fixed on his data "Reviewing our strengths and weaknesses- what we did right, what we did wrong, and how to negate those failures moving forward. But before we discuss the Syndicate's actions, it seems prudent to review what we know about their backgrounds and motives." Mera steeped his hands together and narrowed his heavy-lidded eyes, a hint of something resembling frustration in his expression. "Over the past few weeks, I'm sure you've all seen a wide array of information thrown around regarding the lives of the Syndicate's members, ranging from well-researched analysis to pure speculative fiction. I intend to present you with the facts as the Commission understands them- nothing more, nothing less. I'll begin with Midoriya Izuku, alias 'Seraph'."

Once again, Midoriya's picture flashed across the screen- rather than one of his more recent appearances from the Syndicate's livestreams, though, it seemed to be an old school portrait. This younger Izuku looked shockingly skinny and meek, almost too thin for the shoulders of his wrinkled middle school uniform. His smile was shaky and halfhearted, his freckled face innocent and youthful; it was a stark contrast to the cruel, sadistic expression that Setsuna had come to associate him with.

"Given how thoroughly his story has been covered by the media, I'll keep this relatively brief. As a quirkless boy obsessed with heroes, all of our sources agree that Midoriya dealt with feelings of insecurity and inferiority throughout his childhood, a situation only exacerbated by teasing and discrimination at school, a lack of close friends, and a mostly absent father. These factors certainly contributed to Midoriya's gradual mental decline, but we believe that the precise catalyst can be traced back to a chance meeting with All Might, his personal idol, in his final year of middle school. In our interviews with Izuku's mother, Midoriya Inko, she marked this instance as the point when his fixation with U.A.'s Hero Course began to grow unhealthy, and his emotional state first began to deteriorate. A number of fights between them ensued as he insisted on taking the Hero Course entrance exam despite his quirklessness, and Midoriya became fixated on training himself physically- to the point of injury, in at least one instance."

Mera tapped again at his pad, and security camera footage of a gym's weights room began to play on the monitor, capturing the moment when Midoriya's arms gave out during a bench press. Reports of the incident- and of the the fractured sternum and collarbone Izuku received- had begun to circulate in recent days following the Commencement, and the owner of the gym had even appeared for an interview on a major news channel to cash in on his connection to the nation's most wanted criminal.

"And what exactly do we know about Ground Zero's involvement in Midoriya's childhood and adolesence?" Majestic pointed up at the screen as Bakugo came into focus, hoisting the barbell off Izuku's chest as concerned gymgoers and employees rushed over to the scene of the accident. "It's common knowledge that they were friends at an early age, and there's been a great deal of speculation from the tabloids about their connection, but I'd prefer to hear the Commission's take on events."

Mera opened his mouth and then closed it again, noticeably hesitant as he mulled his answer. His eyes darted up to Kengen, and she stepped in to respond a moment later.

"Bakugo Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku were childhood acquaintances, yes, and it seems that their families were close as well; they even temporarily lived together, after the Midoriya apartment was the site of a robbery attempt that left three wanted local criminals dead on their living room floor. That particular incident has been dredged up quite thoroughly by the media since the Black Day, and not without cause- it was highly unusual even at the time, and after the revelation of the Syndicate's identities, it certainly merited another examination. But on the Black Day, when the Syndicate's virus erased over seventy percent of the Tokyo Police Department's server data, backups and all, the original case file on the incident was lost. To make matters worse, the lead detective from the investigation was one of the casualties of that raid- murdered by Chisaki Kai. All of the reporting since then has relied on testimony from the surviving officers involved in responding to the incident, but without the detective or the actual files to back them up, we've been dealing with a limited picture of events." She gave an exasperated shrug. "The only remaining images we have of the crime scene come from a few articles in local newspapers that covered the incident. We know that Midoriya, Shinso, and Hatsume were able to produce suitable alibis, and that the the case was closed without any additional suspects being named, but little beyond that."

"From everything I've seen, that whole mess had Shinso written all over it," Epicenter declared, brows furrowed and arms crossed. "Alibi or no alibi, I don't buy for a second that three gangsters decided to target Midoriya Izuku's apartment out of pure coincidence. Seraph and his buddies were probably trying to strike a deal with some local thugs before they pulled their little vanishing act. But the meeting went south, so Shinso ordered 'em to kill each other."

The same thought had occurred to Reptilia as well, and she found herself nodding in agreement along with several other heroes.

"Entirely possible," Mera conceded with a shrug, "but we can't point at Synapse with any reasonable degree of certainty at the moment. We'll keep you updated if we find anything new, of course. Returning to the subject of Bakugo, though…" He let out a slight yawn, one bony hand propping up his chin. "Yes, they lived together for a brief time after the apartment shooting, and Ground Zero and his parents all state that Midoriya received frequent visits from Hatsume and Shinso. None of them were privy to the trio's discussions or activities, though- they generally kept to themselves, it seems, and the same was true at U.A., until they approached Monoma Neito several days later. Bakugo has testified that this was the full extent of his interactions with Midoriya- after they moved back into their own apartment, he had no further contact with Izuku or Inko prior to Midoriya and his friends' disappearance. Over the course of our investigation, we've seen no evidence to the contrary."

"The disappearance itself is another event that's been thoroughly covered by the media," Kengen interjected, "both at the time at the time and in recent weeks. We don't have any new intelligence to offer you on that subject, or on the Syndicate's first few weeks on the run, aside from some recently uncovered ticket data indicating that they took the Shinkansen west to Nagoya that same day, using fake IDs and spoofed credit cards. They covered their tracks well- their trail practically vanishes there, until the night of the raid on U.A.'s summer training camp. Given what we now know about their conflict with the League, we believe that Midoriya and Shigaraki most likely planned their respective attacks independently, though whether they discovered the camp's location from the same source is still up for debate. After comparing satellite heatmaps with testimony from Uraraka Ochako and Asui Tsuyu, however, we do have reason to suspect that this was also the night that Midoriya first made contact with Toga Himiko."

The mere mention of Carmilla's name sent another wave of hateful glares and furrowed brows rippling through the room, and Setsuna felt herself grimace in disgust. Unpleasant memories of the shift she'd spent watching over Toga's interrogations at Site 113 came swiftly to mind- of the demented smile on Himiko's face as she answered Mera and Nighteye's questions with vulgarity and fantasies of violence. I hope Kendo's session with her yesterday went well- I've been too slammed with work to look over the report, but going off the summary, it didn't look like they got any big new info.

"One can only imagine how many lives might have been saved if she'd been captured that night," Yoroi Musha declared, shaking his head in disappointment. "Do we have any new information from her interrogation sessions?"

"We'll be addressing those in due time," Mera replied, pinching at the bridge of his nose, "but suffice to say, they haven't been our most productive interrogation work. The most resounding conclusion we can draw thus far is that Toga Himiko is a…" He paused to let out a sigh of exasperation, a distinctly uncomfortable expression crossing his face. "…uniquely twisted individual."

---

Eight Months Ago

Downtown Tokyo, Ikebukuro

"Togaru, over here!"

Leaning forward in the booth, Toga waved a hand in Kamakiri's direction; he'd just stepped through the ramen shop's front entrance, dressed in shades of black and grey as usual. Not a bad outfit tonight, Himiko noted, gazing at Togaru's dark leather bomber jacket, matching black boots, and silver ankh necklace with silent approval. He could still stand to learn that there are more than two colors he's allowed to wear, but it's progress.

A soft half-smile tugged at the edges of Kamakiri's mouth as he nodded in acknowledgement and strode across the shop, sidestepping a rowdy, drunken table of college students in the process, and Toga's grin widened in return as she watched him.

Aww- he's so happy to see me, but he doesn't wanna show it.

"Yo, Tomoki-senpai." As he reached their table, Togaru leaned forward and extended an arm. "Been a minute, bro. Everything good?"

"What, you miss me that much?" Rising to her feet, Toga let out a chuckle as she pulled Kamakiri in for a one-armed hug. She was currently occupying the body of a handsome, twenty-something boy with green eyes, short, messy black hair, and an athletic body type, and she'd grown to like the husky sound of his voice on her tongue. "Just had to take some time to deal with exams, and shit, man - it's all good now."

In truth, Toga had spent most of the two weeks since their last meeting helping with operations against an alliance of local gangs who'd been resisting the Syndicate's push into the arms trade. Kamakiri, on the other hand, still wholeheartedly believed that 'Tomoki' was an ordinary, quirkless college student majoring in finance- she'd never seen so much as a trace of suspicion in his eyes as she carried on her act. Rather the opposite, he seemed to have developed an intense admiration for his new 'senpai' over the months they'd been in contact. He was so prickly at first, but now he's like a little puppy begging for treats.

"Solid, solid." As usual, Togaru tried to project an aura of cool ambivalence as he settled back into his seat, but he'd never been good at hiding his emotions; if he had a tail, it would be wagging in excitement. "So, uh… you pass?"

"Come on, you think I'd fail?" She flashed him a wide grin, leaning back with her arms spread out across the top of the booth. "That hurts, bro. Hell yeah, I passed, and now I'm ready to cut loose a bit. Nice 'fit, the way- you get that necklace from Shihai?"

"Huh? Oh, this." Kamakiri took the silver ankh in hand and held it up beneath the dim overhead light above their table, a grin on his face. "It was from Reiko, actually, a present for my last birthday. Shihai got one too- the three of us have a matching set."

"That's some cheesy shit if I've ever heard it," Himiko shot back in a teasing tone, shaking her head in bemusement. "Wholesome, though. You don't make too many friends like that in life, Togaru, so make sure you treat 'em right."

"I will, man." Togaru faltered, and his smile began to fade. "But… lately, whenever I'm around them, I keep getting this feeling, like… like I'm not…"

"Like you're not what?" Toga leaned forward and allowed a concerned expression to spread across her face; she was already familiar with Kamakiri's deep-rooted inferiority-superiority complex, but it was always best to indulge him whenever he had his moments of melancholy. "It's okay, man, take your time."

"… Like I don't deserve to…" Kamakiri trailed off and shook his head, running a hand through his pale green mohawk. "Forget it, it's stupid. I don't know what the hell I'm saying, coming at you with a bunch of sappy bullshit like that. I'm not a character from some goddamn soap opera."

"Ah, don't be like that. Here, I know what you need." Toga held out a hand as one of the servers passed by their booth, keeping her eyes fixed on Kamakiri all the while. "We'll do two beers and two bowls of the house ramen, extra spicy, extra garlic. That sound good to you, buddy?"

"Yeah, sounds good." Togaru lifted up his gaze and nodded. "I could definitely go for a beer."

"Sure seems like it." Himiko replied with a chuckle. "Something happen, man? You know you can talk to me."

"Just more of the same." Kamakiri paused while a server set their beers on the table, then took a long, deep swig from his glass mug.

That's the way he drinks when he's trying to forget something, Toga noted, biting the inside of her lip to keep herself from flashing a toothy grin. She'd watched Kamakiri drink himself into a stupor more than once before- it was by far the easiest way to get him to spill his more taboo thoughts and desires, and Toga exploited that weakness whenever she had the chance.

"I just feel so goddamn useless, man. We're in our third year now- I'm supposed to be celebrating, locking down a sweet job for after graduation, but I'm still stuck sitting on my ass in my dorm, twiddling my fucking thumbs while everyone else brags about their new internships." He took another deep swig, even longer than the last, followed by a loud, exasperated sigh. "I mean, I've got some a few genuine morons in my class- guys with shit for brains and shit for quirks- and I have to sit there and pretend to be happy for 'em while they go work for top fifty pros. It should be me getting those jobs, goddammit, not Tsubaraba fucking Kosei and Tetsutetsu fucking Tetsutetsu."

Togaru's voice had taken on a particularly bitter and venomous edge; Himiko could feel red-hot anger, envy, and resentment swelling up in his chest from across the table, and her own heart sped up in excitement. Ooh, he's really feeling it, isn't he? Looks like he's ready to take the next step tonight.

"But nope, I've still got a suspended license for two more months, because I committed the horrible crimes of trusting my friend's quirk and trying to save people from a psycho." Kamakiri paused again to shake his head in frustration; his hand darted down to his pocket and returned with a cigarette clutched between two fingers.

"Need a light, bud?" A smirk tugging at her lips, Himiko produced a sleek metal lighter from inside her jacket- or Tomoki's jacket, rather. The lighter was his as well, one of many trinkets she'd looted from the boy's apartment.

"Yeah- thanks, man." Togaru slipped the cigarette into his mouth and leaned forward; Himiko did the same, keeping her gaze fixed on his expression as their faces drew nearer in the dull yellow light, then were cast aglow by the flash of the lighter's bright orange flame. Oh, you poor, lost little puppy. Toga watched with singular delight as Kamakiri bobbed his head in thanks, then leaned back and took his first puff, a faint hint of color on his cheeks. You'd do anything I asked you to right now, wouldn't you? You don't even understand why or how, but you're already my plaything.

"Last time we hung out, you said you might be able to appeal your license suspension, right?" Toga took a sip of beer, breaking their eye contact for a moment to glance over at the kitchen. "Anything happen with that?"

"Nah, 'course not. I mean, I went to a hearing about it, but I knew from the start that it wasn't gonna happen." Kamakiri shrugged his shoulders in exasperation and defeat as he took a long drag on his cigarette. "It's like I've always told you, man- these Commission fuckers, they've had it out for me from the second this shit started."

"Ain't that the truth," Toga echoed, watching his body language closely as she weighed her next words. He had some fire in him earlier, but now it's like he's ready to give up- I need him angry again. Gotta feed that rage. Himiko cleared her throat and took another longer, sip from her mug; as she set it down, she narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice, letting contempt and disgust seep into her tone.

"I'll bet you a million yen, that hearing was rigged from the start- just some charade to make it seem like they care about 'due process', or 'accountability', or whatever horseshit lie they wanna tell the public." Himiko paused and shifted forward again, pointing her index finger down against the table; Togaru leaned closer as well, mirroring her body language. He's biting- I can push it further. "These HPSC shitheads, they've never cared about what's best for you, just about making sure they get to punish you. I mean, these are the guys who've spent half a year bending over backwards to try and make sure you end up in jail, and for what? You sure as hell didn't do anything wrong. You were doing your job, protecting people. At the end of the day, it's just a power trip for these assholes, plain and simple. They're glorified thugs who get off on going after anyone who steps one toe out of line."

"Exactly- exactly!" Kamakiri's free hand curled into a fist, his voice nearly rising to a shout. "I don't conform to their perfect little ideal of a family-friendly, corporate-friendly, hero, so of course they'll take every chance they can get to beat me down. They can't stand that I've gotta shed a little blood to get the job done."

"And what's so wrong with a little blood?" Toga asked, grinning; it took a good deal of restraint not to begin salivating at the thought of Kamakiri's blades cleaving through flesh and bone. "What, do we tell soldiers to try and be nonviolent when they go fight wars? No one's asking them not to get any blood on their uniforms when they kill the bad guys."

"I'll tell you why," Togaru shot back almost instantly. "It's this celebrity culture bullshit. You can't just be a good hero, you've gotta be a goddamn 'public figure' too- and the public are a bunch of helpless fucking children." Kamakiri had lowered voice down to a near-whisper, his eyes darting back and forth around the shop to make sure none of the other customers or employees had heard him. "They want 'safety', but they don't wanna see the consequences! And if you can't play along, can't keep up your squeaky-clean image, you're fucking worthless to 'em."

Kamakiri let out a deep breath and took another swig of beer, but before he could continue, he was interrupted by their server setting two hefty bowls of ramen on the table. An immediate expression of unmistakable hunger and longing crossed Togaru's face the moment he saw the food, and Himiko burst out laughing.

"Damn, man, you must be starving! Come on, let's eat before you start drooling into the broth."

After half an hour of back-and-forth ranting through mouthfuls of noodles and pork, two more rounds of beer, and multiple cigarettes apiece, Toga and Kamakiri finally stepped out of the dingy, hole-in-the-wall ramen joint's smoke-stained glass doors and into a bustling alleyway, illuminated beneath the glow of a dozen neon signs hanging overhead. While Togaru paused to light up another cigarette, Himiko pulled out her phone and gazed down at a new text from Monoma.

[Sender ID Blocked]- How are things progressing? Is he ready?

Yup, sure is. Himiko grinned in excitement as she typed out a message to that effect, glancing to the side to ensure that Togaru wasn't looking over her shoulder. The mission is a go. We'll be at the spot in ten minutes- make sure they're still there.

"Yo, feel this night breeze, man!" Behind her, Kamakiri let out a loud sigh of satisfaction, his arms spread wide as a gust of cool wind made its way along the alley; after nearly an hour spent in a cramped, sweltering restaurant, it was undeniably refreshing. "Damn, that's some good shit! So, what are you feeling next? Hit up a bar?"

Kamakiri stepped up alongside Toga just as she pocketed her phone again, wrapping a long, lanky arm around Tomoki's lean shoulders. Despite her position of seniority in the relationship, Kamakiri was still the taller of the two by half a head, and the difference became rather apparent in moments like this.

"You kidding?" She chuckled, waving one hand out towards the crowds. "It's a Saturday night and we're Ikebukuro- hell yeah, dude, let's live it up. There's a pretty sweet new spot I found just a few blocks from here, if you wanna check it out. Great music, lots of cute college girls." Himiko gave Togaru a playful elbow to the ribs, her grin widening as his cheeks flushed red. "So, you game?"

"Y-Yeah, man, of course I'm game." Kamakiri quickly tried his best to take on a cool and aloof expression, mimicking Toga's casual smirk as he narrowed his eyes and gazed pointedly off into the distance. "I mean, I'm good with whatever, but you know I'm always down to meet some girls."

"Right on, dude. And you know that I'm always down to wingman for you, right?"

Togaru scoffed, then took a confident drag on his cigarette.

"Like I'd need it. I'm a regular ladykiller, just you watch."

"Well then," Himiko replied with a grin, "that's something I need to see for myself. Now come on, Casanova, this way."

She gestured to the right, and they started off together, weaving their way through drunken throngs of businessmen and undergrads alike- there were several universities in the area, all the better to lend credence to Tomoki's story. After a few minutes, they'd left the more mainstream areas behind, heading into the neighborhood's seedier districts, but Kamakiri hardly seemed to be alarmed- if anything, he looked enthralled by the rougher atmosphere. The neon glow had gone from multicolor to almost entirely red, and a haze of cigarette smoke was everywhere, wafting into the street from the open doors of mahjong dens, nightclubs, and 'massage parlors', their supposedly innocent nature belied by the women in geisha outfits waving flirtatiously at passerby from their entryways.

Oh, you can just taste the lust in the air here, Toga mused, forcing herself to maintain a neutral expression despite the urge to grin in delight. People shed all their masks when they step into this neighborhood. All those naughty desires and urges they keep pent up all week- they're finally letting them lose! I'll have to come back here with Izuku once we've cleared out the local pests.

The pungent smell of something sweeter than tobacco was mixed into the atmosphere as well- hookah or hash or opium, almost enough for Himiko to feel a secondhand high from simply breathing it in. Strings of paper lanterns hung overhead between the buildings, and the salarymen and students had mostly been replaced by a decidedly less savory crowd; punks dressed in spiked leather and heavy makeup congregated outside some of the bars, well-dressed men sporting visible tattoo sleeves beneath their rolled-up cuffs outside others. Kamakiri, for his part, gazed at them both with a curious mix of fascination and disdain.

"Those guys," Togaru hissed, leaning down towards Himiko's ear as they passed a cabaret club populated mainly by the latter group, "they're legit yakuza, right? What the fuck are they doing out in the open here?"

"Something like that, I think. All Might took down most of the big old-time gangs, but there are plenty of 'unofficial' groups still hanging around places like this. Cops and heroes can't do much to 'em unless they can prove they broke the law, but I've heard that's pretty hard to do."

In truth, the local yakuza remnants were the main obstacle resisting the Syndicate's control over the arms trade in the area. One gang in particular, based out of Ikebukuro, had been a thorn in Midoriya's side, calling for a truce and then ambushing the Syndicate's representatives at the meeting point. Luckily, Izuku and Momo had been skeptical enough about the parley to send a group of Twice and Monoma's doubles instead of attending in person, and a few days later, they'd retaliated with a brutal raid on the gang's headquarters. The group's leadership had all been killed, but a good number of their foot soldiers were still active in the neighborhood, and according to a lackey captured and interrogated by Shinso, they'd sworn a blood oath of revenge.

And wouldn't it be crazy if we happened to run into a few of them? Toga glanced down again at the screen of her phone- another text from Monoma.

[Sender ID Blocked]- They're still at the designated location. Team 1 will be watching, and Team 2 is already trailing you- signal us if you need any assistance.

Oh, Neito… Himiko let out a quiet sigh of bemusement. I don't think that'll be necessary, sweetie.

"Man, this is some bullshit. Why the hell are we letting gang members just walk around town like they own the goddamn place?" Kamakiri's voice drew Toga's attention back to the present; he was looking back at the entrance of the cabaret club they'd just passed, his eyes narrowed in frustration. "You think we'd be able to get into that place, or is it members-only? I could do some undercover recon, scope out their security. Then Shishikura and Gunhead could swoop in tomorrow and bust their whole operation."

"You really wanna go find out?" Toga reached up and patted Kamakiri on the back, shaking her head. "Ballsy, but don't know if I'd recommend it, dude, unless you wanna risk getting jumped. They might recognize you from the Sports Festival on TV, and I doubt they like heroes hanging around their club. Plus, those kinda places always have insane cover charges."

"Jumped? Me?" Kamakiri raised one skeptical eyebrow, a smug grin on his face, and nodded down toward his right hand; the glint of a slanted, ten-centimeter blade was visible for a brief moment between his fingers before it retracted back into his palm. "They wanna beat up a hero, let's see 'em try it- I'll have a nice surprise ready and waiting for the fuckers. Not like I'm gonna let a suspended license stop me from defending myself."

This is gonna be even easier than I thought, Toga mused, struggling not to laugh as she nodded in agreement.

"Right on, man. I've said it a hundred times before- it's ridiculous that people even need 'government approval' to protect themselves with their quirks in the first place. They were born with 'em, it's only natural to use 'em."

"Right?!" Kamakiri finally turned away from the club with an exasperated groan, falling in step alongside Toga as they continued on down the narrow street. "I was talking about this with Shishikura last week- when you think about it, hero licenses are really just one big racket. They give the government a way to pick and choose who's 'allowed' to hold the power in society, and to weed out any 'undesirables' who don't cooperate with their bullshit."

"So why wait for your suspension to end, then?" Himiko shrugged her shoulders, glancing up to meet Togaru's eyes as they passed beneath the harsh glow of a sign advertising a particularly shady-looking tobacco and liquor store. "Why play their game if it's all just a racket? Plenty of people use their quirk without a license, the trick's just not to get caught. Vigilante life might not be so bad, if you're careful about it."

"I… I mean, I guess I could see myself going for it," Togaru replied somewhat sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck, "but my parents would beat my ass if I dropped outta U.A. right before I graduated."

"Who cares what they think? I'm talking about you, man, not them. If you wanna fight criminals, go fight criminals- don't let some corrupt-ass government clowns tell you you're not allowed."

Togaru fell silent for several long seconds; as she gazed up at him, Himiko could see the gears turning in his head.

"Come on, don't tell me you've never considered it."

"I-I have! Are you kidding, bro? I thought about it a ton when my suspension first hit. I just… never pulled the trigger, I guess. But compared to sitting on my ass for another two months, maybe living on the edge a little wouldn't be so bad."

"Just think about it, man. And whatever you do, you know I'll be there to back you up." She clapped a hand onto his shoulder once more, then nodded to the left. "Come on, this way- it's a shortcut."

A few more seconds passed in silence as the pair made their way down a dimly lit, deserted alleyway, flickering yellow lights overhead. They'd left the crowded strip of bars and clubs behind, and the chatter of voices was rapidly fading into the distance, but Togaru hardly seemed to notice, still locked in contemplation.

"If I did go for something like that," he finally started, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his bomber jacket, "you think I'd need a new costume and all? My looks are pretty recognizable, so I'd get IDed right away if I don't wear a hood or a mask or some shit."

As they rounded a corner and stepped into a small, narrow backlot, with the rear entrances of run-down, deserted storefronts to their left and a high concrete wall to their right, a new pair of voices became audible, both low and masculine.

"…and so I tell him he can fuck right back off to Hokkaido if he's really that scared of a bunch of goddamn teenagers."

"The guy never had any balls, I've always said so. We shouldn't just let him go, though- better to make an example outta him. Bring him to the club and do it in front of everyone, so they all understand that we ain't just gonna lay down and give up after what those fuckin' kids did to-"

The voices suddenly halted as their source came into view. The exit leading to the other side of the block was visible on the far end of the lot, but it was obscured by a trio of men in black suits, puffing at cigarettes as they watched the pair of newcomers step out into view with suspicious, predatory eyes; all of them had visible tattoos on their arms and necks, the same style they'd seen on the main street just minutes prior. As Togaru halted in his tracks, his brows hiking in surprise, the middle one stepped forward- a tall, lean man with sharp, angular cheekbones, a neatly trimmed black goatee, and a mane of gel-slicked hair reaching down towards his shoulders, he was clearly the leader, given the deferential looks he was receiving from the others. Okuda Keiji, Himiko recalled, thinking back to the dossiers Izuku and Momo had put together on the surviving members of the Ikebukuro yakuza. Quirkless, but he's one of the next in line to take over after we slaughtered all the bosses.

"You boys lost?" Okuda chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he planted his hands on his hips. "Y'know, kids like you shouldn't be out wandering around in a place like this so late at night. Who knows what kinda trouble you might run into?"

"Oh yeah?" Kamakiri shot a brief glance at Toga, who'd put on a convincingly alarmed expression, then took a single, measured step forward and broke into a confident smirk. "Well, thank you so very kindly for the warning, sir. But we've got places to be, and I think we'll be just fine on our own."

"Well damn, look at the mouth on this one!" The second man shouted with a boisterous laugh, stepping up next to Okuda. "His buddy looks ready to piss his pants, but this one's got more stones than half of our guys!" He was shorter and burlier than the other two, with a thicker goatee than the first, buzzcut black hair, and a hefty gold necklace. Two short horns jutted out from his forehead, complemented by four large, curved fangs protruding from his mouth, a pair on the top and a pair on the bottom. Akumo Kentaro, quirk: Oni. Seems simple enough- reports say he's got some enhanced strength, but I doubt that'll make a difference.

"For now." The third man sneered- gaunt-faced and clean-shaven with dark brown hair tied in a topknot, he had yellow sclera and black irises, making for a distinctly unsettling gaze, and three silver replacement teeth gleamed in his mouth as he spoke. "He can sure talk big, but he might not be so smug if he understood the kinda situation he's in." Grinning, the man unbuttoned his jacket and nonchalantly held one side open, revealing a pearl-handled meat cleaver strapped to the interior. "Don't forget- you're the one who walked onto our turf, you little punk."

This guy's, uh… Shiryo something or other, right? Can't remember his full name, but I'm glad I prepped for his quirk.

"Nice toy," Togaru scoffed, smirking. "You gonna give it to your kid as a birthday present?"

"The fuck did you say, you little shit?!" Shiryo started forward, reaching for the blade's handle; before he'd advanced even two steps, though, Okuda raised his left hand, and Shiryo halted in his tracks.

"S-Sorry, boss."

"Apology accepted," Okuda replied in a cool, even tone, keeping his eyes fixed on Kamakiri all the while; his grin still remained, but his eyes narrowed in confusion. "Say, kid- what's with the attitude? These guys can get a bit… temperamental when strangers drop in on us uninvited, especially strangers with a chip on their shoulder, but there's no need for any trouble." Okuda's face lit up in faux delight, and he snapped his fingers in sudden realization. "Say, I've got a great idea- why don't you two take out your wallets and your cellphones and hand 'em over to my friends here, to pay us back for this little disturbance you caused? Then you can turn around and head back home to your mommies and daddies, and we can all forget this happened."

Togaru took a half step back, and for a brief moment, his eyes darted back towards the alley in question- towards an escape route. Over the next few seconds of tense, deafening silence, though, the concern and apprehension on his face slowly melted away, replaced by growing fury and indignation, and Himiko felt her own heart begin to race in excitement. Oh, I knew he wouldn't let me down.

"Listen, boys- I've got a different idea for how this is gonna go." Kamakiri took a purposeful step forward, his brows furrowed in anger and his mouth twisted down into a scowl; in the moment, Toga could've sworn that his bladelike mandibles had grown noticeably larger and sharper. "We're not giving you jack shit, so either you step aside and let us through, or I book all three of you for illegal weapons possession and threatening a hero."

Both of the lackeys shrank backwards in the span of an instant, and Akumo let out a string of profanities; only Okuda stood his ground without flinching, his brows furrowed in suspicion. He's trying to figure out whether Togaru's bluffing, Himiko noted, studying the yakuza's expression intently; she'd seen the same look on Izuku's face many times before. And to decide whether we've seen and heard enough that they need to go through the hassle of killing us and hiding the bodies. Shouldn't be long now until things get bloody- it's just a matter of who makes the first move.

"Hero, huh? Well, ain't that something." After a few tense seconds that might as well have been an eternity, Okuda finally pulled his gaze away from Togaru and turned back to face Shiryo. "What do you think? Does he look like a hero?"

"He's clean," Shiryo declared after a moment; his yellow eyes had begun to faintly glow, darting up and down Kamakiri and Toga's bodies. "No weapons, no cuffs, no radio or wire. Same goes for the other one. Doesn't look like a sting, boss."

X-Ray Vision- thank god Izuku figured out this guy's quirk in advance. Any other day, no way I'd be out walking around town without at least three or four knives on me!

"And why would it be? We're law-abiding citizens, after all." Okuda turned back to face Kamakiri and let out a good-natured chuckle, breaking into a wide, obsequious smile. "I hope there's not any misunderstanding about that, friend. That little request I made- just a bad joke, I can tell it didn't land. Humor's never been my strong suit, I'll admit that. And my friend here, he works at a butcher shop- he really cares about his knives, carries 'em home to sharpen and clean 'em sometimes. I'm sure he didn't mean to make you feel unsafe."

Shiryo bobbed his head up and down in agreement, then proceeded to force a comically insincere smile onto his face.

"O-Of course- sorry if I startled ya."

"There- now it's all cleared up." Okuda clapped his hands together in satisfaction. "Water under the bridge, right, hero? And when you think about it, there's not really any need to mention this little misunderstanding to anyone else."

Ah, shit. Toga struggled to keep herself from frowning, still busy putting on her best 'terrified civilian' face. He's deescalating- they might still try and take us out, but not here and now, and we both lose our advantage if the fight's not close-quarters. Looks like I might still need to stir the pot a bit if we want to see-

"That's real kind of you, buddy," Kamakiri declared, interrupting Toga's calculations; he'd drawn himself up to his full height and taken another step forward, lighting up another cigarette as he spoke. By now, he was just half a dozen steps away from the three yakuza, close enough for the subsequent puff of smoke to waft past them. "The thing is, though…" Togaru shrugged, and shifted his gaze to Shiryo in particular. "I'm not sure if sorry's gonna cut it anymore."

"Ah, I see." Okuda gave a slow nod of understanding, then reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet with a smirk, holding it open to display a row of crisp, freshly printed ten-thousand-yen notes. "You need a little bit more incentive, huh? No problem, friend. How about we make a little donation to your hero agency? In recognition of all the important work you're doing for the community."

"Nah, I don't need that. I've just got one condition, pretty simple." Togaru paused to take a long drag on his cigarette, then shifted his right foot forward. Something about his demeanor had changed- Himiko could see a dark determination in his eyes that hadn't been present before, and his fingers had begun to curl back and forth in anticipation. After a long and agonizing internal struggle, it seemed that he'd finally made a decision.

"I want all three of you to kiss my fucking boot."

Holy shit. It took every ounce of willpower in Himiko's body not to burst out in gleeful laughter; of all the possible reactions by Togaru that she'd considered, this was hardly one of them. This kid's even crazier than I thought- I'd kill for some popcorn right now.

"…The fuck did you just say?" Akumo was the first to respond, his skin turning red and his horns and fangs growing in size as his broad-jawed face twisted in growing rage. "Say that again, you little shit. I dare you."

"I said kiss my boot, dipshit. You hard of hearing?" Kamakiri stepped forward once more, then flicked his cigarette to the ground and stamped it out; the confident grin had returned to face. "In fact, why don't you strip down to your underwear and toss all your weapons over the wall while you're at it?"

"Dude, what are you doing?" Toga stammered, wavering her voice in faux panic; she still needed to keep up the Tomoki act, and any normal person would be showing a good deal of concern given the circumstances. "Forget these assholes, let's just get out of here, man! They already said we could go!"

"I ain't running, Tomoki." Kamakiri tilted his head to the side and cracked his neck, then reached forward and did the same with his knuckles. "And I ain't turning my back on these fuckers either. They'll just drop us the first chance they get, like the chicken-shit cowards they are."

"No way this bug-boy freak's a hero. He's just some psycho off his meds." Okuda opened his jacket to reveal a pistol strapped to the side of his torso, then glanced over towards Toga, his eyes narrowed. "That's some friend you've got there, kid. We're gonna have to teach him how to respect his elders- I'd recommend you get out of here if you don't wanna learn the same lesson."

Behind him, Shiryo had drawn his cleaver, brandishing it menacingly in hand, and Akumo had slid on a pair of spiked brass knuckles; his pants and sleeves were straining as his muscles bulged in size, and by now all of his skin had turned a dull shade of red.

"Just stay right there, man." Kamakiri kept his gaze fixed on the yakuza as he spoke, unflinching. His fingers continued to twitch back and forth, and his breaths had grown deep and heavy, as if he were struggling to hold back a powerful urge. "This is all gonna be over soon."

"Okay, dude." Toga gave a firm nod along with her anxious stammer. "I trust you, man."

"Good," Akumo declared, his voice deepened and distorted. "I'd prefer to teach 'em both anyway. The fun might be over too quick if it's just the bug."

"Easy there, Ken." Okuda waved a hand back towards his increasingly demonic lackey, even as his own brow twitched in annoyance. "No need to make a mess. Now, look, you little shit." He shifted his attention back to Kamakiri, his voice steadily rising in anger with each word. "If this is your idea of a comedy routine, it ain't funny. I'm gonna give you one last chance- get on all fours and beg us for forgiveness, and we might let you walk away with just a beating."

"You think I'm the one doing the routine?" Togaru let out a manic chuckle, running one hand through his hair. "Because I've spent the past five minutes watching a couple of limp-dick gangster wannabes who think tattoos make 'em look scary try to convince two teenagers how tough they are, and it's been fucking hilarious."

"Let's see if you keep running that mouth once I cut your goddamn throat!" Shiryo raised his cleaver as he started forward again- he paused as he came alongside Okuda, though, still waiting for his leader's command. "C'mon, boss, the hell are we waiting for?! I checked the buildings, there's no one around! We gotta teach this piece of shit a lesson!"

He knows it's bait, Toga realized, watching the conflicted expression on Okuda's face. He's smart enough to get that part, and smart enough to know Kamakiri has a quirk he's got no way of predicting, but he can't let those insults go unanswered without losing his men's respect. Oh, what a delicious little dilemma! Pride sure is a bitch, huh?

Finally, though, Okuda seemed to reach a decision as well; his eyes narrowed in resolve, his stance straightened, and slowly but surely, his hand began to drift towards his pistol's holster.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Don't pull that gun on me," Kamakiri called in reply, both brows raised. "Don't pull that fucking gun on me, man."

It wasn't a plea; it was a warning.

As far as Toga was concerned, what came next was like watching an artist paint a masterpiece. Okuda's draw was commendably fast, but Kamakiri was faster; by the time the yakuza fired his first shot, Togaru had already closed half the distance between them in a single lunge, creating two massive, slanted blades from his forearms that formed an effective shield when he held them together. The bullet bounced off the blades with a loud, echoing ping, and before Okuda could fire again, his right arm had been severed at the elbow, spurting blood in a bright crimson arc as it sailed though the air. Okuda's scream of pain ended the same moment it began, silenced by a half-meter blade buried in his throat.

As the would-be yakuza boss crumpled to the ground, choking on blood, his lackeys both flinched in unison, recoiling in shock. Shiryo was the first to recover, swinging his cleaver in a vicious sideways slash towards Kamakiri's head with a bellow of rage; Toga watched his eyes widen in horror as his cleaver's blade shattered, rent in two by a lightning-fast parry. The next three blows all followed in swift succession- a vicious slash to the neck, another across the gut, an impaling stab to the chest, all so quick that it was growing difficult for Himiko to keep track of Togaru's movements.

It's like looking in a mirror, Toga mused, letting out a sigh of utter delight as she watched Kamakiri pivot and swing the skewered yakuza around in a 180-degree arc, just in time to redirect a brutal haymaker from Akumo into Shiryo's back. I knew his file said his mutation gives him heightened reflexes on top of the blades, but this is just so much more than I ever could've hoped for! Himiko's face had already flushed red with pleasure by now, and the urge to rush forward and join the melee was growing overwhelming. Oh, what I wouldn't give to get a piece of this action- Izuku's orders aside, though, it would be rude to interrupt such a beautiful moment!

"Shit, I'm sorry, man!" Akumo blurted, drops of blood flying from his knuckles as he pulled the spikes from his comrade's shattered shoulder. Shiryo was too busy clutching desperately at the intestines and viscera spilling out from his torso to respond; he crumpled like a ragdoll the moment Kamakiri withdrew his blade from the man's chest, and a growing pool of crimson quickly dyed the asphalt where he fell.

"Dammit, dammit!" Akumo surged forward again, swinging his fists in wild hooks as Kamakiri nimbly dodged each painfully telegraphed blow. "You're gonna pay for that, motherfucker!"

Togaru let out a jubilant peal of laughter laugh in reply, a gleeful grin on his blood-spattered face. By now, the sleeves of his bomber jacket had been torn to shreds by his blades, but he hardly seemed to care- as he vaulted over another haymaker, two more emerged from his palms, half-meter crescent scythes that took on a haunting silver gleam in the moonlight.

"Man, you've got no idea how good this feels," Kamakiri declared, sliding back through a shallow puddle amid a spray of murky brown water to evade a vicious uppercut. "Ever since I was a kid, I've always, always had to hold back, always had to pull every single punch."

The two combatants had begun to pace around each other in a wide circle, each waiting for the other to make a move; the slanted blades still protruding from Kamakiri's forearms painted a trail of dark red droplets along the ground behind him as he walked, as beautiful a sight as Toga could imagine.

"Because if I ever actually hit someone for real, ever actually tried to go 'Plus Ultra' the way they always tell us to do, the way every one of my dipshit classmates already does, they'd all be carved up in bloody little pieces. But you…" Togaru paused and leveled one of his blades toward his opponent, his voice dripping with contempt. "I can carve you. You get it, don't you, Tomoki?" For the first time since the fight began, Kamakiri glanced back in Toga's direction, and his expression softened for a moment. "I'm doing this city a service by getting rid of these assholes. You see that, right?"

"I-I see it, yeah," Toga stammered, still clinging to a few trappings of the character- she wouldn't need to keep up the act for much longer at this rate, though. "They're criminals, probably murderers, and the heroes sure as hell aren't dealing with 'em."

"That's right," Togaru replied, turning back to face Akumo. "The heroes and the police, they know you're here, know what you are, but they're too busy following their rules and their regulations to make the hard calls. As long as those morons can't prove you're breaking the law, they won't lift a finger to stop you- they'll let this city rot from the inside out before they get their hands dirty. But someone's gotta do it. Someone has to hunt down the wolves to keep all those pathetic little sheep out there safe and sound." Togaru waved a dismissive hand towards the main street and the distant sound of nightlife, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "And if everyone else is too afraid to do it… Then it's gotta be me." Kamakiri's arsenal of blades all lengthened at once, and his eyes widened in glee. "This… this is what my quirk was always meant for. This is what I was always meant to do."

"Nice fuckin' essay, kid." Akumo shifted his shoulders back and shrugged off his suit jacket; buttons from his shirt had begun to snap off with tiny pings as the yakuza's tattoo-covered chest, arms, and shoulders continued to bulge in size. "You want it printed on your grave?"

"Say goodnight," Togaru hissed, darting forward with catlike speed and grace. A wide right hook came as Akumo's reply, sweeping in a broad forward arc, but it was all too easy to avoid. Kamakiri dropped low and slid beneath it- now inside the yakuza's guard, he surged up and swung his scythes together in a scissor-like motion, one on either side of the yakuza's burly neck.

Ah, that's exactly what I would've done! Toga couldn't conceal her smile of delight this time, but it quickly turned to a frown; rather than the pleasant slice and subsequent spray of blood Himiko was anticipating, a loud clang echoed through the alleyway, and her mouth fell open in dismay. Kamakiri's blades were embedded in the man's skin, which had turned a full, deep scarlet, while his fingernails had lengthened into sharp black claws.

"That's my line," Akumo snarled, his voice now distinctly inhuman.

Dammit how'd we miss this? Toga found herself glancing up at the distant roof of a tall office building several blocks away, where Hatsume and Monoma were currently monitoring the situation from a hidden perch; she couldn't see them, but they could undoubtedly see her. There was nothing in his quirk file about hardened skin! We might need to swoop in after all- hope you've got that rifle of yours ready, Mei, 'cause I don't have my knives on me. I might be able to improvise, though… Himiko's eyes darted over towards the remains of Shiryo's cleaver; there was still enough blade connected to the handle for it to be useful in a pinch.

Swearing viciously, Kamakiri withdrew his blades and tried to duck away, but he was a beat too slow. A vicious headbutt landed squarely on his face, accompanied by a spurt of blood from his nose, and he stumbled backwards in a daze for a brief moment before Akumo wound back and drove a savage blow into his torso. Even concussed and disoriented, though, Kamakiri's reflexes were still razor sharp; he produced two interlocking blades from the point of impact in the instant before the yakuza's spike-knuckled fist connected, intercepting the punch at the last possible moment. Both blades shattered from the force of the blow, but Akumo's brass knuckles were sliced in two, and two shallow stab wounds were driven into his fingers, leaking a weak stream of black blood. And though Kamakiri was still flung backwards, gasping for breath as he rolled along the asphalt, his body was spared the brunt of the force behind the attack, enough to escape a hit that might've scrambled his internal organs like eggs otherwise.

Akumo hardly seemed interested in giving Kamakiri the time to recover; Togaru only barely managed to scramble out of the way as the yakuza charged forward like a demonic bull, springing dulled blades from his elbows and knees to forcibly propel himself back to his feet and out of Akumo's path.

"Those were some solid hits," Togaru declared, clutching at his head with one hand; blood was still spilling down his nose and chin as he spoke, and his blades had all retracted into his body. "You ain't gonna land another, though. I can promise you that."

Akumo gave a dismissive grunt as his only reply, then surged forward once more, swinging his fists like cudgels. Despite his wounded state, though, Kamakiri swayed out of the path of one blow, then bobbed under another, and bent backwards to avoid a third; his movements were erratic and unsteady, but his reflexes still seemed intact, and he showed no sign of growing sluggish on account of his injuries.

Is that… Drunken Fist? One of Himiko's brows hiked in confusion and fascination as she continued to edge towards the fallen cleaver. I can't tell if he's actually using that style on purpose, or he's just concussed. Either way, consider me impressed- not to mention, he looks so much more handsome with that blood on his face!

"What happened to those little knives of yours, bugboy?" Akumo finally growled, driving a massive dent into a dumpster as Kamakiri sidestepped another hook. "Too afraid to break 'em?"

"Right here, big guy."

All at once, Kamakiri leaned into a forward lunge, a long, spear-like blade sprouting from his right wrist, but Himiko's eyes narrowed immediately in confusion. It's so much more telegraphed than all his other moves. Must be a…

Her suspicion was swiftly proven correct; Akumo hesitated and shifted to the side to avoid the blow, but Togaru yanked back his arm before the stabbing motion was complete, and the gleeful grin returned to his bloodied face. The feint had succeeded, and the real attack followed at lightning-speed: a brutal, arcing kick, accompanied by a massive sawtooth blade that cut open Togaru's boot as it emerged from the side of his foot. In just a fraction of a second, the blade built up enough momentum to let out a shrill whistle as it sliced through the air, followed by a sharp crack and a grisly screech not unlike the sound of metal being rent in two. Black blood spurted from a deep diagonal laceration, stretching from Akumo's forehead down to his chin and even into his shoulder; one of his horns and two of his fangs had been severed, and his lips and left eye had been sliced cleanly in two. The yakuza stumbled backwards and and slammed into the dumpster he'd dented moments before, letting out a bellow of pain and rage as his hands shot instinctively up to his face to clutch at his bleeding mouth and ruined eye.

Akumo seemed to realize his mistake a moment later, and dropped his arms back down into a guard position, but he was a beat too late; by then, Kamakiri was already using the leftover momentum from his kick to spin into another lunging strike with the blade from his wrist. This one was no feint, though- Togaru slipped deftly between the yakuza's arms and plunged his spear straight into the man's open mouth, piercing through the back of his throat and pinning him to the dumpster in one clean blow.

Silence followed, broken only by a slow, whimpering gurgle as Akumo gradually slumped to the ground, dark blood flowing openly from his already mutilated mouth. Kamakiri, for his part, had withdrawn his blade and stepped back almost immediately to ensure that he wasn't caught by any lingering death throes- his breath was escaping in ragged pants, and sweat was dripping from his face along with the blood, but he was still wearing a wide, frenzied smile. As Toga started towards him, joy and desire swelling up in equal measure in her chest, a muffled cough sounded off to her left, and her head jerked towards the source: Okuda Keiji, aiming his pistol at Kamakiri's back with his one remaining hand.

"Togaru, behind you!"

Ah shit, how did I not notice he was still alive?! Frustration and fury quickly replaced Himiko's jubilation as she shouted out a warning and dove for Shiryo's broken cleaver, grabbing hold of the handle and flinging it towards Okuda in a single fluid motion. I let myself get distracted- I got too caught up in all that lovely blood!

Okuda's face was streaked with sweat and pale from blood loss, and his hand was shaking uncontrollably as his finger drifted towards the trigger; there was no guarantee he would've hit his target regardless, but it was better to be safe than sorry, as far as Toga was concerned. The blade fragment struck him squarely on his fingers, severing two of them and knocking the gun from his hand- it still fired off a round, but the bullet sailed uselessly into the cinderblock wall of one of the adjacent buildings.

What followed was vicious, merciless, and entirely delightful. The moment Kamakiri realized what had happened, he lunged across the alley in a streak of green and black, curved blades outstretched, and leapt upon the wounded yakuza like a ravenous beast. His scythes rose and fell in frantic rhythm, and in a matter of seconds, Okuda's chest, neck, and head had been sliced into ribbons of blood and gore. The yakuza's face was swiftly rendered unrecognizable, his body lifeless, but Kamakiri kept slashing all the same, letting out a rising cry of anger. His entire upper body was coated in red now, and Toga could restrain herself no longer; she rushed forward, slid to her knees, and wrapped him in a tight embrace, grabbing hold of his hair with one hand and his waist with the other.

"Oh, Togaru, you did so good! I'm so proud of you!"

"T-Tomoki?" Kamakiri's voice finally escaped in a nervous stammer as his rage receded; even beneath the mask of blood, the red flush of embarrassment on his cheeks was still visible. "Dude, what… what are you doing?"

"You did it," Himiko continued, ignoring his confusion as she cupped her hands around his face and drew even closer. "You listened to your instincts, and you finally became the person you were always meant to be! And the way you killed them… it was just… so beautiful." She leaned forward and kissed him, snaking her tongue along his bloodsoaked cheek before slipping it inside his mouth; for a moment, Togaru flinched in surprise, but he didn't pull away.

Whoops- I'm still Tomoki, aren't I? Silly me!

Toga released her quirk and allowed the excess flesh from Metamorphosis to melt away just as she withdrew from the kiss, gasping in pleasure. Kamakiri's eyes remained closed for a moment, but once they opened, they quickly widened in shock, and Togaru shot to his feet, stumbling backwards.

"What the fuck… w-who are…"

"I'm Tomoki, silly!" Toga giggled as she stood and glanced down at her now-oversized clothes, then reached back and ran her fingers through her loose blonde hair. "I've been with you all along! Don't you recognize your senpai?"

"You're… but he…" Togaru clutched at his forehead with both hands, his voice wavering in confusion as blood continued to drip down his face, arms and chest. "He's not… I-I recognize you… you're from…"

Kamakiri's eyes drifted back down to Okuda's mutilated corpse- to the gory red ruin that remained of his head- and an expression of fear and shock crossed his face. One of his hands shot up to his mouth as a gagging sound came from his throat, but he quickly jerked the hand away once he realized it was covered in viscera.

"What the fuck did I just do, man? I… I fucked up again, just like before!" Togaru had begun to pace back and forth, his voice rising in panic. "This is bad, this is really fucking bad!"

"No, this is good." Himiko reached out and wrapped him in a tight hug, nuzzling her head against his bloodstained chest as her hand rubbed circles on his back. "This is amazing, Togaru! You're not a slave to their rules anymore- you broke away from all those shackles they used to keep you down!" She glanced up and met his eyes, a wide, jubilant smile on her red-flushed face. "You accepted who you are, and I am so proud of you!"

"I… I guess I…" Togaru shook his head, his brows knit together; the push and pull inside his mind was all too easy to observe. He'd stopped shrinking away and accepted her embrace, and whether by reflex or by intent, his hands had settled on her hips. "But… is this the right way to…"

"That depends." Himiko reached up and caressed a hand along his cheek. "Did it feel good?"

Kamakiri fell silent. After several long moments, he turned his gaze up towards the sky, his eyes fixed far in the distance.

"Yeah." Togaru lowered his eyes back to meet hers, and gave a quiet nod. "Yeah, it felt good."

"I'm very glad to hear that," another voice replied; Kamakiri flinched in surprise as he whipped around to face the source, but Toga grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back towards her.

"Don't worry, he's a friend. They all are."

She watched with a calm, satisfied smile as Midoriya and Shinso strode into the backlot from one end, Twice and a Shinso double from the other. They were all dressed in plainclothes, with Izuku and Hitoshi's hair and eyes disguised as usual and a hoodie for Jin. For the past few minutes, they'd been watching both entrances to the alleyway to ensure that no one interrupted Kamakiri's 'final exam', with a Shinso present on either end to dissuade any particularly stubborn passerby.

"It seems you've gone through a rather intense transformation," Midoriya continued, grinning as he stepped over Shiryo's lifeless corpse. "I know that everything may seem confusing right now- overwhelming, even. But I can assure you- as Himiko said, you're among friends now." He extended a hand, and Toga pranced gleefully towards her lover, pulling Kamakiri along behind her.

"Oh baby, he was just perfect!" Himiko came to a halt midway between the two, then wrapped an arm around each of their backs and pressed them toward each other. "I've never seen anyone with so much natural talent for cutting and slicing, it makes me wanna cry! He's like an artist!"

"I… I just need a minute here." Kamakiri raised a hand to his temple and shook his head, taking a step back away from Midoriya. "I remember her from the news, but… who the hell are you people? Are you with the League or something?"

"Not anymore!" Twice shook his head adamantly, then pulled his hood back to reveal the recognizable scar running down his forehead. "Not for a long time! These guys are the real deal- they'll look out for you, I can promise you that."

"Perhaps it would help if he could see a familiar face," Midoriya offered, dialing a number on his phone- a few seconds later, another familiar voice rang out from the speaker.

"Kamakiri, my dear friend, it has been far too long! Tell me, how are you feeling?"

Togaru's eyes narrowed in confusion for a brief moment, then widened in shock once more.

"Holy shit. Monoma?!"

"The one and only!" Neito declared, cackling in delight as Izuku held out the phone to reveal Chaudron's joyous face filling up the screen. "Don't worry, dear Togaru, I'll be there to see you in person momentarily- there's so very much we need to catch up on! Now, you may be feeling worried about what might happen if the authorities were to stumble upon this little scene, but rest assured, we're on the case."

Perfectly on cue as always, Yaoyorozu rounded the corner into the lot and gave the assembled group a pleasant nod of greeting. Making a beeline for the bloodied yakuza corpses Kamakiri had left behind, she pulled back one of her jacket's sleeves and began to create a series of cylindrical canisters from her forearm, each labeled with the same chemical formula, HClO4.

"But… those gunshots, there's no way no one heard 'em." Kamakiri glanced back and forth at the two entrances to the lot, then reached up towards his broken nose. "Fucking hell- the cops are gonna show up any minute, and my blood's all over this place too!"

"You don't need to worry about a thing." Monoma's manic grin faded to a soft, earnest smile. "Despite my long period of absence, I can still promise you this, Togaru- we're here to help you, and we aim to deliver."

"Here to help, huh?" Togaru let out a half-hearted chuckle as he gazed down at his bloodied hands. "So… do I get to I come with you? To leave, like you did? I don't…" He trailed off and shook his head, then glanced back up towards Izuku and Neito. "I don't think I can go back to U.A., man. Not after this."

"As I said," Monoma replied, "we already have the situation well in hand, so you needn't fret about being connected to this little incident. Our dear classmate Yaoyorozu will make certain of that."

"N-No, that's…

"That's not what he means," Izuku cut in, a knowing smile on his face. "It's not because you fear the authorities, is it, Kamakiri Togaru? It's because you finally understand the role you were meant to play." Midoriya reached out and laid a firm hand on Kamakiri's arm. "Because you've had a taste of your true potential. Trust me- I know the feeling."

Behind them, Yaoyorozu had created a hazard mask and safety gloves for herself; after waving back Twice and the Shinso double, she began to pour one of the canisters over Akumo's body, and a grisly sizzling sound filled the air as the acid ate through the yakuza's skin, swiftly burning away any trace of Kamakiri's blood or DNA.

"We want to help you reach that potential, Togaru." Midoriya shifted his hand to Kamakiri's back and led him away from the dissolving corpse, grinning all the while. "But there's a good deal to discuss first. Let's take a stroll, shall we? I want to talk about your future."

---

"So Uraraka was forced to take part in the attack, then?" Ryukyu leaned forward in her chair, her brows furrowed in a mix concern and exasperation as she stared down the president. "If you can say that conclusively, why has the Commission not made an official statement?"

Murmurs of agreement quickly sounded around the table, and Setsuna felt a distinct sense of uneasiness settle in her chest. After finishing their review of the backgrounds, capabilities, and motives, of every known member of Syndicate leadership, they had launched into an equally exhaustive analysis of each one of the heroes' prior engagements with the group, from Yoroi Musha's failed sting in Osaka to the brazen assault on U.A.'s commencement ceremony. Several times now, Kengen and Mera had called on Reptilia, Lemillion, and the other Fenrir members in attendance to testify regarding their experiences combatting the Syndicate, answering a barrage of questions from the rest of the room about their methods and tactics. Jeanist and Lemillion had taken the lion's share of the assembled heroes' inquiries, but Reptilia had attempted to share in the burden whenever she was able, particularly when it came to the Commencement. Setsuna received a considerable amount of praise after describing the way she'd spread word of Carmilla's presence, not to mention her part in organizing the makeshift rescue of Overhaul's hostages alongside Mudslide, Poltergeist, and Airshifter.

After over an hour, the briefing had just moved on to the findings of the Commission's most recent intelligence report. Up until now, most of the information they'd been reviewing had been more or less familiar to Reptilia and the other Fenrir members- they'd always received regular updates on all Syndicate-related intel, of course, and the briefing seemed to be primarily targeted at bringing the non-members up to speed. Now, though, they were approaching unfamiliar territory, and the feverish pounding of Setsuna's heart made it perfectly clear how little she was looking forward to it. Her throat had grown dry, and her hand reached out instinctively towards her glass of water- it had long since been emptied, though, and her thermos of green tea along with it.

Damn, would it kill them to get us some refills? Or coffee, for that matter, if they're gonna keep us for this long. Her eyes flit over to Mera's mug at the head of the table; he seemed to have drained his supply of caffeine as well, judging by his increasingly fatigued expression.

Outside, the setting sun's hazy red disc was beginning to dip behind the buildings on the horizon, its dimmed light growing weaker by the minute; a quick glance indicated that the protests below were still going as strong as ever, though the crush of evening commuters made it difficult to discern where the mob ended and the normal crowds began.

"As I said," Kengen replied, raising her hands to calm her audience, "we have concluded that her actions were likely being manipulated. We can't say anything with 100% certainty, but there's a high probability that she was forced to participate against her will, yes."

In the moment, Setsuna wasn't sure whether to feel horrified or relieved. It was the answer she'd been hoping for all along, but it made Ochako's final minutes all the more tragic- to know that she'd been made to kill Aizawa, made to kill herself, and all while her family watched from the audience. That her friend's death hadn't been a suicide, but a murder. The mere thought was enough to make Setsuna sick to her stomach, and yet somehow, it was still far better than the alternative.

"If that's the case," Snipe declared, his arms crossed in disapproval, "then your press office's refusal to comment on the matter until the police finish their investigation is inexcusable. The poor girl's funeral is tomorrow, and the tabloids are still full of wild claims that she was a Syndicate spy all along- a magazine with ten million copies in circulation is saying her capture in Yokohama was 'staged', and that she and Midoriya were 'secret lovers'. They've begun to spread similar garbage about Todoroki as well- some nonsense about him and Yaoyorozu."

Setsuna felt herself bristle with rage as she recalled seeing that particularly grotesque headline pop up on her social media feeds the day after the attack, and a quick glance over at Ryukyu and Nejire revealed nothing but pure disdain and disgust on their faces. God, I just hope Tsuyu never, ever sees that article. I need to check in with her again after this briefing's over.

"The media's behavior on this issue has been absolutely disgraceful," Snipe continued, his scowl practically visible even behind his gas mask, "which is exactly why you need to drop an official statement to try and assert some control over the narrative, especially if you can already say she's blameless."

The former U.A. teacher's sentiment was quickly echoed around the room, most vocally by Ryukyu, Nejire, and Sero. Setsuna let out a quiet call of agreement as well, but there was still far too much dread and discomfort coiled up in her chest for her to raise her voice much higher than a murmur.

"So, was it Synapse?" As Kengen and Mera waited for the clamor to die down, Epicenter spoke up as well, one hand curled into a fist atop the table. "Did he advance his quirk somehow? If he can control people remotely and make them talk, then he's gotten a lot more dangerous."

"…We don't believe Shinso Hitoshi was involved, no." Kengen paused, frowning, as the heroes' anger was swiftly replaced by confusion. "Rather, we have reason to suspect that this was the work of Hatsume Mei and Chisaki Kai. Mera, if you would?"

The three pictures that populated the screen moments later sent goosebumps racing across Setsuna's skin. A small label clarified that the first was a CT scan of Ochako's brain, taken shortly after her rescue from Syndicate captivity on the Black Day, and though she wasn't a medical expert, Tokage could see what looked to be a small, roughly circular abnormality in the image, located towards the lower back portion of her brain.

"Following her rescue from Syndicate captivity," Mera explained, gesturing towards the screen, "Uraraka Ochako was subjected to a number of medical checks to determine whether the Syndicate had altered her in any way, including a CT scan and an MRI- we found nothing out of the ordinary, aside from a small, benign tumor located on her cerebellum. We forwarded the scans to a neurologist, who theorized that it had likely been present but undiagnosed for several years. Given its negligible growth rate and small size, though, he concluded that surgical removal was unnecessary, and instead prescribed an annual MRI to monitor it. Accordingly, we moved on and thought nothing more of the matter; Uravity was cleared for a return to duty."

Mera's mouth was set in a grim line, and he paused to run a hand down his exhausted face before gesturing to the other two pictures: according to their labels, one was a post-mortem CT scan of Ochako's brain taken shortly after her death, while the other was an MRI from the next day. Both images bore noticeable differences to the first pair; instead of a small, white circle for the tumor, the CT showed a large, faint blob, with the faded outlines of what looked to be multiple small tendrils spreading in all directions. On the MRI, though, the foreign shapes were much clearer and brighter- the outline of a small square was visible exactly where the tumor had once been, and the 'tendrils' were much more well-defined, stretching outward to connect to nearly every part of the brain.

"After consulting extensively with medical experts," Mera continued, sucking in a deep breath, "our best guess is that that the Syndicate placed some sort of 'device' on Uraraka's cerebellum, disguising it as a benign tumor. The fact that we found no sign of any surgical incisions on her skull or brain leads us to believe that this feat was made possible by Chisaki Kai's quirk, Overhaul. He seems to have given the implant an organic 'outer layer' to mimic a tumor's appearance, but at some point between our scan and the U.A. attack, the device activated, shed its disguise, and spread to every corner of the victim's brain. It started by compromising the cerebellum, the brain's center for motor functions, but by the time of her death, it had reached the medulla, the limbic center, and all major lobes."

I think I'm gonna puke. A powerful swell of revulsion slammed into Setsuna's gut as Mera's words continued to drone in her ears, and she reflexively covered her mouth with one hand, struggling to contain her gag reflex. Please, tell me this is a bad fucking joke- it's like something out of a goddamn horror movie.

"The device itself seems to have dissolved following Uraraka's death, but judging by the compounds present in the particles it left behind, it seems that it was composed mainly of silicon-based polymers. There are also traces remnants of a powerful neurotoxin- likely a last-resort measure to kill the victim in the event that we did detect the implant, as it never appears to have been deployed. Finally, we found signs that Uraraka's brain tissue had been subjected to a significant amount of EM radiation from a high-frequency radio signal, with the most heavily affected area centering on the implant's location. Given all these factors, our forensics team concluded that the device's primary purpose was most likely to, and I quote, 'assume full or partial control of the host's body through direct stimulation of the brain via an outside signal'."

Murmured profanities and expressions of shock, horror, and outrage swiftly followed from nearly ever hero present. Even those who'd remained mostly stoic until now- Ryukyu, Lemillion, Majestic- were visibly disturbed, but the most drastic change that Setsuna noticed came from Shepherdess. Shiozaki's usual calm and collected expression had given way to a mask of cold fury, brows knit and eyes narrowed. Most strikingly, though, she had wrapped one of her vines around her right hand and begun to squeeze it, pressing the thorns into her palm- when she noticed Setsuna watching her a few brief moments later, she blinked once in surprise, as if snapping from a trance, then swiftly let go and shifted the hand in question beneath the table, her cheeks flushed red. As she moved it, though, Setsuna caught sight of drops of blood beginning to leak from purple bruises on Ibara's skin; half of her wanted to speak up, to ask Shiozaki if she was alright, but Mera's droning voice resumed before she could muster the courage.

"Variations of 'brain-chip' technology have been researched and even experimented with at multiple points in the past two centuries, but most world governments banned all development in the field decades ago, including Japan- the risk of abuse or fatal malfunction was deemed too high. With the unlimited resources provided by Yaoyorozu's Creation, however, we believe it's distinctly possible that Hatsume Mei was able to replicate a similar device, using Chisaki's quirk to seamlessly conceal it."

"Given these decidedly… disturbing findings," Kengen added, her lips pursed in discomfort, "you can no doubt tell why we've been reluctant to make a public announcement regarding Uraraka's situation. We do intend to send out a press release on the matter ahead of her funeral tomorrow, though it won't go into any significant detail aside from our belief that she was an innocent victim."

A grim silence followed; Star and Stripe was the first to respond, cradling her head in both hands.

"Jesus Christ, that poor girl…" For a moment, Cathy's voice sounded close to breaking, though she quickly reined in her emotions as she continued. "I can't even imagine what she went through. Do we think they've done the same thing to the Shields and Coldflame?"

"Anyone who spends any amount of time in Syndicate custody is now considered at risk for the same procedure," Kengen replied with a heavy sigh. "That includes Todoroki Shoto and David and Melissa Shield, yes. Given her brief captive experience in Yokohama, we've already subjected Ryukyu to a thorough series of CT scans, MRIs, and x-rays, and thankfully, we found no similar abnormalities."

Across the table, Ryukyu gave a firm nod, though Reptilia could tell that reviewing Uraraka's situation had taken a toll on her; her anger and despair had drawn much closer to the surface than before, but they were slowly beginning to recede again.

"It seems I was lucky, yes. It's not lost on me that I was likely the original intended recipient for the implant, before I broke free."

"You mustn't blame yourself, Ryuko," Ectoplasm urged, shaking his head. "Nejire, Sakamata- you as well. You all did everything in your power to protect your pupils that day."

"Is there any indication that these barbaric devices could be removed without killing the victim?" Yoroi Musha interjected, stroking again at his beard.

"Our scientists are still working on that," Mera replied, "though unfortunately they have very little solid data to go on, thanks to the implant's self-destruct mechanism."

"If we do manage to retrieve another Syndicate captive," Kengen interjected, "it's vital that we give no indication we're aware of the implants. In the event of a successful rescue of either Coldflame or the Shields, we need to feign ignorance until we find a way to extract them; otherwise, the 'operators' would almost certainly hit the kill-switch."

"So, do we think Jack Mantis fell victim to one of these implants as well?" Majestic had steeped his fingers atop the table, his mouth set in a hard line. "He doesn't seem to be a Syndicate abduction victim like Uravity, but then again, we can't really know that for sure without confirming his whereabouts for… the entirety of the past two years, I suppose."

"If we start thinking like that," Mount Lady countered, her voice rising in frustration, "everyone's a suspect! That's exactly the kind of-"

"Every member of this operation will undergo an MRI over the course of the next two days," Kengen interjected, drowning out the dispute in a commanding tone that brokered no argument. "We already conduct routine background checks on each and every hero with a full professional license, but rest assured that the frequency and intensity of said checks has been increased accordingly for everyone in this room. Routine medical checks are simply a logical next step, given our enemy's tactics. That said, though- no, we do not believe that Kamakiri's actions were the result of an implant."

"What?"

Against all conventional wisdom, Setsuna blurted out the first word that rushed into her mind; a profound sense of indignation had swelled up in her chest in the blink of an eye, giving her the confidence to continue speaking as every pair of eyes in the room turned to face her.

"My apologies for the outburst, but…With all due respect, what do you mean, ma'am? Isn't another chip the most logical explanation?"

"These 'control chips' need to be implanted surgically," Mera replied, rubbing at his heavy purple eyelids with his free hand. "Even if the damage is seamlessly repaired by Overhaul afterward, the skull still has to be opened to access the brain. Given what we know about Twice's quirk, it's exceedingly unlikely that a double could be implanted with one without destroying it."

"And if it were possible," the president added with a shrug of her shoulders, "if they had access to Kamakiri for a long enough period to make the implant- why use a double in the first place? Why not the original, as they did with Uraraka?"

"Maybe they didn't want to sacrifice both him and Uraraka." Reiko replied, giving Setsuna a supportive nod as she joined her in speaking up. "Maybe they still wanted to keep him as a hostage."

"Even if we make all of those assumptions, several additional complicating factors remain with regard to Kamakiri's past." The president's brows drew together in contempt, and Reptilia felt herself shrink back in her chair out of pure reflex. "As some of you may know, Jack Mantis was subject to disciplinary action and sanction by this commission approximately one year ago, when he severely wounded a classmate during a training exercise."

"That was me, and it was a total accident!" Awase nearly shot to his feet in protest, leaning forward in his chair and grabbing hold of his mic. "He didn't mean to hurt me!"

"Exactly," Setsuna chimed in, nodding vigorously. "We all know it wasn't intentional!"

"Regardless of his intent, his actions still merited a formal investigation." Kengen refused to yield a centimeter of ground; her gaze had grown cold and imperious. "And during the course of that investigation, just four days later, he was involved in a second incident. While on patrol for his internship at Gunhead's agency, Jack Mantis executed a mentally ill civilian."

"…What?" Setsuna faltered, struggling to compose a reply. "No, that's not… That's not something he'd do."

Even as she spoke, though, memories of Togaru flooded into Setuna's mind- of his pained, desperate expression the night they'd first kissed, and the wavering uncertainty in his voice.

'Something else happened… I did something I can't take back.'

I… never did find out what he was talking about, did I? I don't think he ever brought it up again, and I didn't want to pry.

"You heard me correctly," Kengen replied, her voice cracking like a whip. "The man was brandishing a toy firearm, but instead of attempting to restrain him or relieve him of the suspected weapon, Jack Mantis saw fit to act as judge, jury, and executioner. If it were my decision, he would've been convicted of aggravated manslaughter and sentenced to juvenile detention, but a panel of judges decided to let him off with a temporary suspension of his provisional license. Following this incident, we have reason to believe that he began to espouse anti-establishment views, according to interviews with his teachers and peers."

Interviews with his peers? They sure as hell didn't interview me. Once again, Setsuna found herself glancing pointedly at her fellow Class B alumni; Awase and Juzo both seemed genuinely taken aback, as did Reiko, her pale blue eyes wide with shock and horror beneath the shadow of her bangs. On the other end of the table, though, the three girls who'd taken part in the meeting with the president- Kinoko, Ibara, and Yui- looked noticeably less surprised, and the same ran true for the former U.A. teachers present. Shemage in particular wore a conflicted look on her face; the moment her eyes met Reptilia's, her round cheeks flushed the same shade as her scarlet, mushroom-themed costume, and her gaze swiftly dropped down to the table.

"What did you do?" Setsuna mouthed, keeping her eyes locked on Kinoko's face even as the shorter girl shrank back in her chair. "What did you tell them?!"

"There's still a huge gap between being that and joining the Syndicate," Snipe protested, drawing away Reptilia's attention before Shemage could answer. "I saw the police report- in the moment, Kamakiri did genuinely believe the man had a real gun. He thought he was saving lives, even if the way he went about it was wrong. After the suspension came down, I did hear him badmouthing the Commission in the halls between class a few times. He made a mistake, he got punished, and he was frustrated- that's a normal response for a teenager. But I don't buy that he'd go from that to killing Vlad voluntarily."

"Neither do I," Cementoss grunted, shaking his head. "He was a hardworking kid, and he hated the suspension because it kept him behind all his classmates, kept him isolated and bored while everyone else was out training. But once it was over, he went back to putting 110% into his hero work- I heard nothing but praise about him from Gunhead. He learned his lesson after what happened."

The other U.A. teachers present nodded in agreement, and for a moment, Setsuna felt a rush of vindication. That's right, assholes. Even if Togaru did fuck up, and even if he hated your guts, it doesn't mean he's a goddamn traitor.

"Sadly, that's not all. Perhaps the most concerning piece of evidence is this: In the past twenty-four hours, three key individuals connected to Kamakiri Togaru and his hero license suspension have been reported missing."

Kengen paused for a moment to allow the revelation to sink in; with another tap on his datapad, Mera pulled up an image of a suited, middle-aged man's official work picture and badge, marked prominently with the HPSC logo. Clean-shaven, he sported horn-rimmed glasses and a few streaks of grey in his neatly combed black hair. Setsuna tried for a few brief moments to see if she could recognize him, but he might as well have been any one of the thousands of salarymen she saw on the way to work every morning.

"Special Agent Kurihara Daisuke, a thirteen-year veteran of the Commission. Declared missing this morning at 10:46AM after he failed to report to work several hours prior, and subsequently failed to respond to numerous welfare checks from his colleagues. His apartment was searched and found vacant, with no sign of a struggle or of any stolen items. His wallet, cellphone, keys, and work badge were all accounted for, his bank account shows no recent withdrawals, and his door and window were still locked from the inside. Practically the exact same set of circumstances applies to Special Agent Fukai Hinako, a six-year veteran, declared missing this morning at 11:05am."

The first agent's picture was replaced by a young woman with brown hair tied in a ponytail and distinctive red eyes, probably in her mid-thirties, and while Setsuna had drawn a blank on the man's face, the woman looked familiar. Connected to Togaru's suspension… Oh, shit. Are they…?

"These are the same two agents who were assigned to Kamakiri Togaru's investigation last year," Kengen declared, swiftly confirming Reptilia's gut instinct. "The investigation we all know he felt deep resentment towards- hatred, even, by your own words, Cementoss. Am I to take it as mere coincidence that they've both vanished, just days after Kamakiri's possible defection?"

"Maybe the Syndicate's trying to frame him," Reiko protested, her usually quiet voice laced with uncharacteristic anger and defiance. "That's what happened with Uraraka, right? They used that chip to make her tell everyone she was a traitor, but they were pulling the strings all along. They're probably doing the same thing with Togaru, setting things up so it looks like he's turned on us. That's one of their main strategies, isn't it? Making us doubt each other."

"That's exactly right," Star and Stripe added, her voice echoing through the room's speakers. "Now, I don't know all the context of the situation, nor do I know the young man in question, but what I can tell you for certain is that this operation won't be able to succeed if we're all constantly questioning each other's loyalties. Poltergeist is dead-on- it's what the Syndicate wants us to do. Just look at the way they smeared Hawks- this kind of psychological warfare has gotta be one of their favorite tactics, so framing Jack Mantis would be par for the course."

"All the same," Kengen countered with a frown, "we cannot be so naïve as to ignore a potential security concern. Now, the third missing individual's connection to Kamakiri's suspension isn't as strong as that of Agents Kurihara and Fukai, but all the same, it's made even more concerning by her prior place of employment." The president sucked in a deep breath of air, and paused to gather her thoughts before she continued. "I regret to inform you all- especially her colleagues and former students- that as of this morning, Nemuri Kayama has been reported missing as well."

…Midnight?

Setsuna felt her jaw flap open in dismay, her heart sinking in her chest; yet again, it was as if everyone in the room had been dealt a savage blow to the gut. Several pairs of eyes drifted pointedly towards the table's one empty chair, Setsuna's included, but the brief, shocked silence was quickly followed by a barrage of questions from the far end of the room as the former U.A. teachers registered their disbelief.

"When did this happen?!" Snipe leaned forward and laid his gloved hands against the table, clearly struggling to keep from shooting to his feet. "We should've been informed right away!"

"What was her last known location?" Cementoss added, his usually stoic voice tinged with genuine worry. "Was she investigating any Syndicate activity?"

"How could you possibly… of all the useless…" Hound Dog's protest devolved into unintelligible growls within moments, but he lapsed back into a respectful silence along with the others with a simple gesture from Kengen.

"To answer your questions, Midnight was last seen in person around 11:00PM last night; she was scheduled for a graveyard patrol shift with her sidekicks beginning at midnight. Sakamata?" The president nodded towards Gang Orca, who cleared his throat before speaking up as well.

"Yes, that's correct- I watched her leave her apartment to report to her shift at exactly 11:06. She didn't mention any other destinations or appointments."

Gang Orca's black and white cheeks were flushed slightly pink, and it only took a few brief moments of confusion for Setsuna to grasp the implications of his statement. And yet somehow, Midnight and Gang Orca being an item is the least ridiculous thing I've heard in the past few minutes.

"Security camera footage from the apartment building's hallways and parking garage confirms Gang Orca's side of the story," Mera remarked with a yawn. "And traffic cameras on the highway have a positive ID on Midnight's car traveling in the direction of her patrol zone several minutes later."

"But she never arrived at that patrol, did she?" Kengen turned to face Utsushimi Camie, who shook her head from side to side with a frown.

"Nope, she never showed! We waited around for a whole hour, blew up her phone with calls and texts. I just started with her a few days ago, but it still seemed pretty wack- she's totes dedicated to Team Nightfall! That's what she calls us- super wholesome, right? I mean, she did send us that one text, but it was hella vague."

Kengen nodded, then gestured towards Mera, who summoned a screenshot of a text conversation to the monitor.

"At 11:13PM, Midnight's three sidekicks- Glamourous, Vantablack, and Spiral, all received the following message from her Hero Network profile: 'Sorry, but I might be a few minutes late to the rendezvous for our patrol– I have a minor errand to run first. Feel free to start the route without me, and I'll catch up to you.' Now, we still have no way of knowing what this 'minor errand' referred to- she didn't mention it to Sakamata, and declined to give her sidekicks any details. Ten minutes later, at 11:23, another traffic camera captured her car taking an exit off the highway, a dozen kilometers before the one she usually takes. A third places her driving southeast a few minutes after that. At the moment, that remains the last confirmed sighting we have of her. She simply vanishes from the grid, car and all."

"Her cellphone pinged off a tower in the vicinity of that highway exit around two minutes after that final sighting," Mera added, "but after that, the signal goes offline. We're continuing to search nearby traffic cams, but several in that vicinity are currently undergoing routine maintenance, and others have already automatically overwritten their footage from last night after twelve hours. As for potential destinations, there are any number of major landmarks in the area she could've been headed to- hero agencies, hospitals, shopping centers, etcetera. Rest assured, though, we're already hard at work making inquiries."

"This is where the incident differs from the other two." Kengen planted her hands on her hips, her brows furrowed in contemplation. "Both Agent Kurihara and Agent Fukai left all their personal belongings behind, but in Midnight's case, everything is gone- cellphone, purse, keys, IDs, et cetera. We're closely monitoring her apartment and all her accounts in case anyone attempts to access them, but as of now, we have no leads. Given the ongoing national crisis, however, we've elected to treat all three of this disappearances as Syndicate-related incidents until proven otherwise."

"As worrying as all of this is," Fatgum cut in, "I still don't see how it relates to Kamakiri. I'm sure Midnight had him for a few classes, but that's a hell of a flimsy connection compared to the first two."

"No, there's a connection there." Cementoss countered hesitantly. "It's not a particularly strong one, but… after the incident with the fake gun, during the course of the resulting legal investigation, Kamakiri had to be accompanied by a U.A. staff member whenever he went down to the police station or the Hero Commission Building to give testimony. To prevent scheduling conflicts, three teachers decided to share the duty on a rotating basis at the outset…" He paused and shook his head, as if he were dreading the next few words that would leave his mouth. "…Vlad King, Present Mic, and Midnight."

"That's correct," Kengen replied with a solemn nod. "Two of these three teachers were viciously attacked by Kamakiri's double at the Commencement- one fatally- while the third has now gone missing, within twelve hours of the disappearances of Agents Kurihara and Fukai. Ladies and gentlemen, I don't wish to draw any premature conclusions, but a trend is a trend, and it is our analysts' belief that we're beyond the territory of mere coincidence at this point. This doesn't mean that Jack Mantis is now considered to be a member of the Syndicate, nor does it mean we're ready to put out a warrant for his arrest. If our forces do encounter him, however, we need to be prepared for all possibilities."

Reptilia opened her mouth to offer another protest, but faltered, struggling to find the proper words. Moments later, she felt Juzo's hand on her shoulder; Setsuna nodded in silent gratitude for the gesture, but she couldn't muster the will to look him in the eyes.

"I know this may be difficult for those of you who knew him personally," The president continued, adopting a somewhat sympathetic tone of voice, "but we should at least be able to agree on that much. Now, I'm sure you're all well aware that some in the media have called for anyone with a personal relationship to the members and victims of the Syndicate to be excluded from any future operations. They claim that you won't be able to handle the situation objectively- that your feelings will prevent you from carrying out your assignments with the proper diligence. I gave this argument serious consideration, but at the end of the day, we're not in the business of letting the press dictate how we do our jobs. If I can't trust each one of you to be rational and objective in your duties, then I can't trust you at all. And if I didn't trust each and every person in this room, none of you would be here in the first place."

A small swell of pride buoyed Reptilia's sinking spirits, as she tried once more to focus on the positive. That's right- we're all here for a reason.

"Again and again," Kengen continued, her brows furrowed in frustration, "the Syndicate have deliberately targeted our best and brightest, in a concerted effort to tear down our community's pillars of virtue and stability. If I began to dismiss you from the fight out of fear and paranoia- all but conceded to our enemy's strategy- what kind of message would it send to the public? To the ranks of heroes who've yet to face the Syndicate in the field? Are we to tell them that sustaining an injury or losing a friend- two consequences every hero must be prepared to face- means that they'll lose their chance to defend this country as well? Do we place so little faith in our defenders?"

Across the table, some of the light had begun to return to Nejire's eyes- her scowl briefly softened, a glimmer of her old personality shining through.

"And if this argument were extended to first responders, then it's safe to say we'd need to fire the entirety of the Tokyo Police Department." Kengen cracked a small grin, and shrugged her shoulders. "There's not a single man or woman on the force today who didn't lose someone on the Black Day, but I've yet to see any papers advocating for their dismissal. I know they want revenge, and I won't punish them for that. It's a natural, human desire, and in the end, it may be the motivating factor that drives them to go above and beyond in the service of their community and their country. I won't punish any of you for it either, as long as you don't let it interfere with your work. I know that a few of you, particularly the younger men and women in this room, may have personal history with certain Syndicate members, and rest assured we'll try and keep you distanced from missions involving those individuals to the extent that we're able."

"The fact of the matter is, we're no longer just peacekeepers- like it or not, we're soldiers fighting in a war now, and no soldier is immune to feelings of anger and hatred towards his enemy. Our foe does not simply seek financial gain or petty prestige- they wish to destroy our way of life, to tear apart the foundations of the nation we all hold dear and cast us into glorified anarchy. I could no more ask you to remain ambivalent towards our current mission than I could ask the sun to stop setting." The president gestured to the dazzling yellow and orange sky outside the windows; there was a comforting air of empathy to her words. "In summary, my message is simple: Use your emotions, but don't let yourself be consumed by them. Make them into an asset, not a liability."

Kengen paused for another brief moment, then held aloft her index finger.

"Let me be perfectly clear, though. If I am given specific cause to believe that any member of Operation Wild Hunt has been emotionally or mentally compromised by their duties, I will not hesitate to pull that individual from the mission. And in addition to your upcoming medical checks, each participant in the operation will be subject to periodic psych evaluations as well. Is that understood?"

A wave of nods and words of affirmation swept around the room; the looks of horror and disgust from before had largely been replaced by pride and confidence, along with plenty of the anger Kengen had spoken of. It felt more focused now, though- reined in and aimed towards a specific purpose. The brief glimmer of satisfaction on the president's face indicated that she approved of what she saw, and she gave a curt nod to Best Jeanist, who leaned towards his mic in turn.

"Well then, that brings us to the final and most important section of this briefing." Jeanist clasped his hands together atop the table, gazing around the room as he spoke; his calm, even tone exuded competence, and as usual, Setsuna felt herself immediately reassured by his voice. "By this point, we're all familiar with the Syndicate's preferred tactics, and the advantages they've sought to create and exploit in almost every one of their past engagements with our forces. Forcing us to fight them on their terms, in an arena of their choosing. Maintaining a high level of operational flexibility thanks to Pandora, Kurogiri, and Chaudron, in order to adapt to anything and everything we throw at them. Endless manpower, courtesy of Twice. Always keeping an escape route and contingency plan prepared in case the odds begin to shift against them."

Jeanist held up another finger for each item he listed, and heads around the table bobbed periodically in agreement.

"And perhaps above all else, relying on us to respond with conventional, orthodox hero tactics and protocols- tactics and protocols that Midoriya Izuku has over spent half of his life studying obsessively. If we wish to stand a chance at defeating the Syndicate- at reversing the downward spiral that we're currently trapped in- we must negate each one of these strengths. And, as Deputy Mera indicated, we'll need to neutralize all five of our priority targets."

Seraph, Pandora, Chaudron, Twice and Kurogiri's faces filled the screen once more; under the current circumstances, their confident gazes seemed to be practically mocking the heroes from the other side of the glass, daring them to do their worst.

"For weeks now," Jeanist continued, "the president, Sir Nighteye, and I have struggled to determine how we could fulfill all of these conditions at once. Early in the conflict, in the first days after Strike Team Fenrir's formation, one avenue we considered was to simply locate and storm the Syndicate's headquarters, as we did with the League in Kamino. But aside from the sheer difficulty of locating an enemy who have spent two years devoting all their resources to concealing themselves, several key factors have discouraged us from pursuing this option. We would be allowing the Syndicate to retain one of their key strengths by attacking them on their home turf- no doubt, they've fortified their bases' defenses extensively since the Black Day, giving them a distinct advantage in any such combat. This is not a ragtag band of ill-equipped vagabonds squatting in a bar- thanks to Hatsume, Yaoyorozu, and Chisaki, they are capable of constructing a limitless arsenal of lethal weaponry, surveillance equipment, support items, defensive supplies- in this aspect, they are truly unlike any villain group we have ever faced."

Yeah, I don't even want to think what breaking into one of their bases would look like, Setsuna reflected, shaking her head. With Pandora and Longshot, they can probably make the booby traps in Indiana Jones look like child's play.

"And rest assured- even if we found them, even if we circumvented their defenses and cut off their escape, they'd likely have the same pyrotechnic surprises that met Edgeshot's team ready and waiting for us as a last resort. If they're backed into a corner, I find it highly likely that the Syndicate would rather martyr themselves in a blaze of glory than submit to capture, and I, for one, refuse to send good heroes into a death trap."

A grimace spread across Setsuna's face once more as she recalled Edgeshot's fate- the broken state he'd been reduced to, briefing Strike Team Fenrir from a wheelchair while Mandalay, his team's only other survivor, was still struggling to regain control of her mental faculties in a psych ward.

"We also considered attempting to infiltrate the Syndicate's ranks via a double agent, as Hawks was assigned to do with the League of Villains. Undercover operatives need time to build the necessary trust and rapport for such a mission, though- months, in most cases, but sometimes years. Given the rapid pace of the Syndicate's attacks and the urgent, time-sensitive need to reverse our streak of losses that President Kengen spoke of, though, this strategy is simply too slow to be a viable option. Finally, we settled on a third path- rather than playing along with their game of chess, we turn their own tactics against them."

Around the length of the table, several heroes leaned forward, their interest clearly piqued; Setsuna couldn't help but be curious as well, one eyebrow cocked. What kinda scheme did you come up with, Number One?

"It's no secret that the Syndicate relies primarily on shock and awe attacks- grandiose, theatric operations that focus on destroying or undermining key national symbols or figures. On the Black Day, All Might and Hawks were slain, the Tokyo Police Department ransacked. During the Commencement, U.A. itself was destroyed, and Battle Fist and Endeavor were humiliated. If this pattern holds, their next major attack will target yet another institutional pillar of the hero society that Seraph despises so intensely. And make no mistake- despite the lofty and verbose ideology that he and his coterie of lieutenants claim to hold dear, Midoriya and his old grudges are the ones driving this agenda. It's just as President Kengen told us at the outset of this briefing: All of the suffering the Syndicate has inflicted stems from the resentment and hatred of a single individual, and if we can understand the mind of Midoriya Izuku, we can understand how to defeat him."

"So… we make a target for him." Majestic leaned forward in his chair, stroking at his stubble. "That's what you're planning, isn't it? We use that hate, give him something so perfectly 'symbolic' and 'despicable', he can't resist going after it."

"Then we bring the hammer down," Star and Stripe chimed in, slamming a fist into her open palm. "Hit 'em with sleeping gas or a massive stun blast or something, take Mystery Incorporated here off the table all at once." She gestured towards the faces on the screen with a bitter chuckle, then paused a moment to wait for a reaction; among the pros, only Fatgum gave a knowing smile in reply. "What, nothing? Group of five? 'You meddling kids'? Come on, guys, it's a classic- you can't tell me you've never seen Scooby Doo."

"To put it another way," Ryukyu offered, a sharp gleam of approval in her golden eyes, "if you're hunting a bear, you don't charge into its den. You set bait, and lure it into a trap."

"I could scarcely have put it better myself." Best Jeanist replied, nodding in satisfaction. "That analogy brings us to two vital questions, though- what do we use as bait, and how do we keep the bear from sniffing out our trap? As for the first, we've been hard at work compiling a list of possible targets for the Syndicate's next strike." Jeanist paused and held out his left hand; on cue, Mera leaned over and handed him the datapad he'd been using. "The potential attack sites we've identified are as follows: the Tartarus prison facility, the National Diet, the Imperial Palace, Shiketsu High School, Ketsubutsu High School, the Osaka and Kyoto police departments, and this building, the headquarters of the Hero Public Safety Commission."

Ah, isn't that reassuring? Setsuna glanced back to the windows, shaking her head in quiet exasperation. Well, at least we have a barricade of idiots blocking all the entrances. Good luck to the Syndicate if they wanna try and get through that mess- I'd pay to watch that one protestor lady egg them.

"As for potential individual targets…" Jeanist paused, reluctance and concern on his face. "Myself, President Kengen, Sir Nighteye, Lemillion, and Mirko are at the top of the list, along with the prime minister, the emperor, Tartarus' warden, and Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu's principals. Though she has already been targeted once during the Commencement, the Syndicate may also strike at Battle Fist again in order to further damage her reputation, and we believe that Ground Zero may be a potential target as well, due to his past with Izuku."

Setsuna's head swiveled immediately towards Lemillion, her eyes wide in alarm and her mind racing. Mirio's a target? I mean, of course he is- it makes perfect sense that they'd wanna take out the country's fastest rising hotshot after Hawks. But still… She locked eyes with Juzo, her fellow intern-turned-sidekick under Togata's tutelage, and the two shared a knowing glance of concern as half a dozen rising voices blended together in the background. Lemillion, for his part, was back to his usual cool-tempered demeanor, and he watched with a small, weary smile on his face as Yoroi Musha held out one armored hand, cutting through the clamor.

"Will you be assigning these potential targets protective details, then? I, for one, have advocated keeping Battle Fist under guard since All Might was slain on the Black Day- she's too important for us to lose!"

"She's trying her best to follow by her master's example," Star and Stripe countered, her golden brows furrowed. "Do you honestly think All Might would've ever agreed to a government protection detail, no matter what kind of threat he was facing? If Kendo took that kind of offer, it would undermine her position as the Symbol, and feed into Seraph's propaganda that she's just a government puppet. She needs to stand on her own two feet."

"The same goes double for Mirko and Ground Zero," Ryukyu chimed in, a brief glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "I have a great deal of pity for anyone who tries to force bodyguards on those two- they'd go vigilante before agreeing to anything close to a protection arrangement. And as Star said, it would be a win for our enemies- at a moment when we already appear weak in the public eye, a move like that would make us look even weaker."

"We came to the same conclusion," Jeanist replied with a nod. "Furthermore, a group of bodyguards, whatever the size and composition- heroes, police, military, etcetera- would likely pose a negligible obstacle for the Syndicate, given their meticulously planned, hit and run style of attacks. They're not afraid of going after hard targets like U.A. and the Tokyo PD if they have time to prepare, and the formation of a well-equipped, visible protection detail for someone like Battle Fist or Mirko would only serve to paint an even larger target on their backs. That said, there's little we can do to stop the prime minister or the emperor if they request more bodyguards, aside from hope that Midoriya's vendetta will remain aimed at hero society and law enforcement rather than the executive branch."

Well the prime minister is kind of an asshole, Setsuna mused, one brow cocked. If I had to pick one person on that list for the Syndicate to kill, I think he'd probably be the smallest net loss to society. At least the emperor's got the cute old grandpa factor going for him.

"It would be helpful if Battle Fist were here to discuss the matter in person," Gang Orca offered, stroking his chin with one webbed hand. "Will she and the remainder of Strike Team Fenrir not be joining us?"

"They're all busy with important assignments at the moment," Kengen replied, stepping in for Jeanist. "We considered bringing in the entire strike team, but ultimately decided that it would be… tactically unsound to concentrate the entirety of Wild Hunt's vanguard in a location visible to the public. We're taking enough of a risk gathering this many top heroes as it is, but this was important enough to make an exception. There are only so many sites in Tokyo where we can guarantee a setting as secure as this room, especially with an incoming call from across the Pacific."

Star nodded in appreciation up in her corner of the screen.

"Don't worry, you've got the best cyber team in the U.S. military on the case now. I'm bringing 'em with me to Japan when we deploy- they've got a bone to pick with La Brava after that database breach she pulled in Okinawa."

"Speaking of Battle Fist and Mirko," Jeanist cut in, one hand perched on his chin, "it's worth mentioning that their current assignment is highly relevant to the future success of Operation Wild Hunt. Now, of our five priority targets, Kurogiri's quirk may be the most difficult to plan for. Short of rendering him unconscious, as Edgeshot was able to do in Kamino, there's little we can do to counteract the instant long-range transportation and escape route it provides- yet, at least." Jeanist paused and glanced across the table to the U.A. teachers, gesturing in their direction. "Power Loader- would you like to elaborate on your current project?"

"Sure thing," the lanky, auburn-haired former teacher replied, clearing his throat before he continued. He was sporting a black and yellow utility vest as opposed to his usual shirtless look, though his eyes remained hidden behind his heavy metal helmet as usual. "President Kengen has me and almost the entire team of U.A. and Shiketsu's Support Course staff set up in a Safety Commission R&D lab, working full-time on anti-Syndicate countermeasures. We've got basically unlimited resources and funding thanks to the government's, uh… concern about this matter, so we should theoretically be able go toe-to-toe with Hatsume and Yaoyorozu's production capacity."

'Theoretically' is carrying a lot of weight in that sentence, Setsuna couldn't help but think, exchanging a brief glance with Juzo. Power Loader's voice had grown a bit melancholy when he came to the topic of his former star pupil, but he recovered quickly, pressing ahead with renewed vigor.

"As for myself, I've been working on anti-Kurogiri tech. Project Shirogiri, we've started calling it- Whitemist. Now, we're still trying to find the right frequency to create an EM field that can negate his Warp Gate, but in the meantime, my assistant Kenranzaki and I have come up with a mighty fine detection system, and in just a few days, we've been able to expand the range by an exponential factor. As I understand it, Battle Fist and Mirko's team are currently helping set up a small-scale version of the system in Yokohama for a test run, but if it works like it's intended, we're gonna roll out the project on a national scale- coat the whole country in radar towers that can detect Kurogiri's portals from hundreds of kilometers away, down to the exact square meter, then instantly relay the coordinates to our hero teams."

"It's quite an impressive feat," Kengen replied, nodding. "And if it does prove effective, Operation Wild Hunt will be able to-"

Midsentence, the president was interrupted by a loud bang from directly behind Setsuna; in an instant, she detached her head and swiveled it 180 degrees, watching with wide-eyed surprise as one of the security personnel she'd seen outside barged through the wooden doors, rushed directly to the president, and began to whisper in her ear.

Uh, that's… usually not a good sign. She exchanged a worried glance with Lemillon as she reattached her head, struggling to ignore the fact that her heartrate had just spiked twofold. This is the scene in every American action movie where the president gets told that a nuke just went off.

For a few brief seconds, the entire table waited together in complete silence; as far as Setsuna could tell, every one of them was holding their breath. As the guard continued to speak in hushed tones, President Kengen, for her part, remained utterly stonefaced. No hint of emotion, positive or negative, seeped into her eyes or her voice as she nodded in understanding, then clasped her hands behind her back and turned to face the assembled heroes.

"They're releasing another video."

It was a simple, matter-of-fact statement, delivered in total deadpan, but to the president's credit, her lack of alarm set the tone for the response that followed. Everyone in the room understood who and what she was referring to, but no panic or shouting ensued; almost in unison, the heroes and sidekicks rose from their seats, with some looking towards Kengen and Best Jeanist for guidance and others starting for the exit. The doors swung open once more moments later, and an additional squad of bodyguards rushed through, taking up positions in a rough circle around the president. They were armed with rifles as opposed to the pistols they'd been carrying earlier, their jackets already discarded and replaced with tactical vests.

Looks like that siege is picking up, huh? Against her better judgement, Setsuna let out a quiet, nervous chuckle. Let's just hope the Syndicate isn't packing trebuchets.

"With your permission, I'll take a team down to begin evacuating the demonstrators outside." Lemillion was the first to speak, turning to face Jeanist and Kengen. "If the Syndicate is in the middle of an active operation, we need to remove civilians from any potential target areas."

"Do it." Jeanist wasted no time in his response, giving a curt nod. "You have point. Any other volunteers? Think strategically about your quirks, we can't send everyone."

"I'll go." Juzo spoke up first, and his example was quickly followed by Mount Lady, Majestic, Nejire, Gale Force, and Shepherdess. Curiously, the last two seemed to look directly at President Kengen before volunteering, only raising their voices once she gave them a tacit nod.

"Good, that should be enough." Lemillion clapped his hands together and gazed out at the makeshift team, mincing no words. "I'll head down first- I'm fastest that way. Mudslide, make a hole for everyone else. Let's move out."

Without any further ado, Mirio pressed his arms flat against his sides and activated his quirk, slipping through the floor in the blink of an eye. Mudslide followed his example just half a beat later, softening a large, circular patch of the floor-to-ceiling windows to a shimmering, fluid consistency.

"Apologies, President Kengen, but this is the quickest way to get people outside."

"By all means, go ahead." Kengen nodded in assent, and within moments, the volunteer team had begun to make their way through the veil of liquid glass, either hovering on Majestic's disks or flying under their own power. Once the last of them made it through, with Juzo bringing up the rear, the glass hardened again behind them, without so much as a single mark or imperfection.

"I'll head up to the roof," Snipe declared, starting across the room. "Set up in a good perch and watch for any hostiles, give them cover fire if it comes to that." As he neared the doors, he turned to face the nearest guard and held out one hand. "My guns, I need them. I handed them over in the lobby- where are you keeping them?"

"D-Downstairs in the security office, sir. I can radio down and have them-"

"Too slow. Apologies, son, but I'm gonna need to take this."

Before Setsuna could so much as blink, Snipe had plucked the man's pistol from its holster and twirled it deftly in hand, checking the magazine to ensure it was loaded; the guard reached for his taser out of instinct, clearly unsure how to proceed, but Kengen was quick to cool the air.

"Let him take it- your ammunition as well. It's our duty to assist these men and women in any way they ask, especially at a time like this."

"Glad to hear it," Snipe replied, gesturing towards a second guard; by the time he left the room a few moments later, he had a pistol in each hand and half a dozen magazines stashed on his belt and bandoliers, his red cloak flowing behind him as he made for the stairwell.

Up on the monitor, Star and Stripe's corner of the screen had been a frenzy of activity for the past minute; she'd muted herself, and seemed to be in the midst of a heated discussion with the officers who'd been watching her call. Her voice filtered back through the speakers a few moments after Snipe's departure, though, clearly conflicted.

"I, ah… For security reasons, they're saying I need to hop off and head over to our command center." Shooing away one of the officers, she ran a gloved hand down her face and shook her head. "I'm sorry, guys. Just hold on, though- I swear to you, I'll be there soon. We'll get these bastards."

"Thank you, Cathy." Kengen gave Star one final nod before the American hero's camera window vanished, then turned to face Mera, her hands planted on her hips.

"Get the video up on the screen- now. We need full visibility before we divert any more personnel."

"Y-Yes, ma'am, I'm working on it." Mera was tapping and swiping furiously at his datapad, and he reached up to dab a sheen of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his suit. "It seems they've sent links of the livestream to major news agencies, just as they did on the Black Day, but our protocols require me to scan any external links for security threats, so it's simply a matter of-"

"At the moment, I'm afraid thatI don't care about the specifics. Finish the scan, then play the video, Deputy Mera."

"Yes, ma'am. Of course, ma'am."

Mera made a few more taps on his pad, and Setsuna felt the lump of dread return to her throat as a loading wheel flashed across the center of the monitor, taunting them with each lazy rotation. Come on, keep it together. Setsuna reached up and rubbed at her temples, biting at her lower lip in frustration. Whatever this is, we can handle it. Just listen to Jeanist and the prez, and we'll be fine. Stay focused like you did at the Commencement.

"…What do you think they're trying to pull this time?" As the wheel continued to spin, Setsuna shifted to her right and glanced over at Awase, keeping her voice to a low whisper. "Maybe go after the Diet?"

"Fuck if I know, man," Forgemaster murmured back, running his armored hands through his tufted black hair. "I mean… my head's still spinning from everything they just told us, so I don't even wanna try and imagine what those sick bastards are doing now."

"Hey, think positive." Setsuna's nervous grin returned, and she shrugged her shoulders, trying her best to put on an air of casual confidence. "Maybe they're gonna announce that they surrender, and that they're very sorry for all the-"

"…just the tip of the fucking iceberg when it comes to the two-bit sham they have the nerve to call the 'Public Safety Commission'. So trust me, guys- we're just getting started here."

A low, growling voice interrupted Setsuna's attempt at a joke, reverberating through the room from every direction. In an instant, it was as if all the air had been sucked from the vicinity, leaving no sound but the cruel, bitter laughter pouring through the speakers.

She recognized the speaker instantly, of course. Awase did as well, judging by the expression of abject shock and horror that crossed his face before his head whipped back towards the monitor. Setsuna, however, remained fixed in place, practically petrified. Her neck refused to turn to face the screen, to confirm by sight what she already knew by sound.

No. Please, no.

"And I'm not just talking your run-of-the-mill, ordinary corruption- we all know there's plenty of that to go around down there." The voice continued, incessant; Setsuna could see movement on the screen at the edges of her vision, but her head still refused to budge. "We're talking about mass surveillance, secret government blacksites, illegal executions… Oh, you people wouldn't believe how much blood these Commission fuckers have on their hands. It's a goddamn miracle the whole building ain't stained red- isn't that right, Special Agents?"

More laughter followed, accompanied by muffled grunting and several gasps of shock and horror around the conference room. Beads of sweat were growing heavy on Setsuna's brow, and her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, threatening to drown out everything aside from the voice on the screen. All the while, the same three words filled her mind again and again, a desperate plea.

It's not him. It's not him. It's not him. It's not him.

Reptilia could feel other heroes shifting uncomfortably around her, hear the faint sounds of their voices, but it was all beginning to fade into a distant blur- until the felt another hand brushing up against her own, fingers intertwining. She flinched instinctively, but stopped herself short of pulling away, and glanced to her left; Reiko was staring back at her, tears of horror and anguish welling in her blue-grey eyes.

No words passed between them, but it was clear to Setsuna that each of them understood the other; she tightened her grip on Reiko's hand and let out a long and shaky breath, holding onto the warmth of Yanagi's fingers like a lifeline as Reiko did the same. Then she turned to face the screen, and met the leering gaze of Kamakiri Togaru.

In a manner of speaking, her silent plea had been vindicated: The Jack Mantis staring back at her now was practically unrecognizable as the one she'd known as her friend and classmate just a week prior. Venomous contempt and smug superiority dripped from his voice in equal measure as he spoke, and a manic, twisted grin remained plastered across his face, hauntingly similar to the one burned into Setsuna's memory from the moment when Midoriya Izuku's image first filled the screens at the Commencement. Two suited captives knelt before him, their wrists bound behind their backs and their heads covered by black hoods- signs labeled 'Corrupt Commission Dog' hung from their necks, and by now, their identities were painfully clear to everyone in the room.

For a single, fleeting moment, Setsuna felt a spark of hope- hope that she was looking at a product of Toga Himiko's quirk, a simple facsimile concocted by Twice and Carmilla to frame another U.A. student. More deception was simply the easiest explanation- surely the real Togaru could never have grown so sadistic, so callous, all without her noticing.

That notion began to crumble, however, the more she studied his eyes. Kamakiri's tone of voice was exaggerated and unfamiliar, his actions entirely foreign, but she'd seen the same bitter hatred and frustration in his eyes a dozen, a hundred times before. Each midnight rant, each mistake in class, each disciplinary visit during his suspension- they'd all been accompanied by the same spiteful gaze he was wearing now, the same harsh furrow of his brows. Within a matter of moments, the spark had been extinguished, smothered by the growing pit of dread in her stomach.

"What's wrong, guys?" Kamakiri let out another chuckle, then planted his boot on the taller hostage's back and pressed down, prompting a series of muffled grunts from beneath their hood. Curiously, Togaru's breath was visibly condensing in the air as he spoke, as if he were walking outside on a cold winter day. Hardly anything about his surroundings was visible, though, aside from dark shadows and a single dull yellow overhead light. "You gotta speak up, or the audience can't hear you."

"Only two," Jeanist murmured off to the side, glancing towards the president. "The agents, it seems. But where's Midnight? Do they not have her after all?"

"Too early to say- they might be saving her for a 'second act'." Kengen shook her head, then pulled a compact radio from inside her blazer and lifted it to her mouth. "Kengen to Cyber. How's the trace coming? Any luck?"

"None yet, ma'am," a woman's voice replied from the other end. "They're scrambling the broadcast signal, just like last time- it's being routed through dozens of different IP addresses, and the live feed has already spread to dozens of websites and forums. Even if we tell the news channels to take the stream offline, we won't be able to block the alternate links faster than the internet can repopulate them. We're already working on decrypting the video's metadata, though- if these new algorithms work well, we might be able to-"

Keep me updated on your progress," Kengen interjected, then pocketed the radio and turned back towards Jeanist. "Recommendations?"

"Last time, they revealed their location intentionally- until they do the same for this stream, or our cyber team traces the broadcast, there's nothing we can do other than raise our readiness status and prepare for the worst. Wherever they are, the air temperature is cold enough to condense breath, but that single clue on its own is hardly enough to narrow things down."

"What do you think, huh? Wanna say hello to the world?"

Kamakiri's voice drew the room's attention back to the screen- as they watched, he leaned down and pulled the hoods from his captives' heads, smirking all the while. Kurihara and Fukai's faces were both slick with sweat and streaked with dried tears, but aside from the lengths of rope gagging their mouths, they seemed unharmed at the moment. They were still dressed in their work clothes, seemingly prepped for an ordinary day. Kurihara's glasses were askew, his neatly gelled greying black hair tousled out of place and his morning stubble still unshaved; Fukai seemed to have been abducted in the midst of her pre-work routine as well, if her half-done makeup was any indication. Streaks of black eyeliner ran down from her left eye but not her right, and only one of her cheeks sported foundation and concealer.

"On trial today, we have two of the Commission's favorite bloodhounds." Kamakiri clapped his hands together in anticipation, two slanted blades slowly emerging from his wrists. "They spent the better part of a year trying their best to smear my reputation, strip away my hero license, all because my quirk doesn't fit the Comission's bullshit image of a family-friendly, corporate-friendly hero. But this…" He paused and shrugged his shoulders, gesturing towards the camera. "This isn't just about me- I'm not here to sell you guys some bullshit, 'woe-is-me' vanity trip about my problems. This is bigger than me, and it's bigger than them too."

Kamakiri shifted his boot to Kurihara's shoulder and pressed it down even harder, threatening to dislocate it; a scowl spread across his face as the man cried out in pain.

"They're not the disease- they're just a symptom of the rot that's eating this country from the inside out. And I know you all can see it too- you're not half as blind as they wish you were. But enough from me... I'll let you hear it from the dogs themselves."

Running one hand through his mohawk, Togaru began to pace around the pair in a slow circle, but he quickly came to a halt before of the senior of the two agents, and his grin returned.

"Why don't we start with you, buddy? It's like they say- age before beauty, or some shit like that. Remember, though, you gotta stay still, or my hand might slip."

In one swift motion, Kamakiri crouched down and severed the man's gag; to his credit, he only flinched slightly in response. As Togaru stood again, his blades grew in size from daggers to longswords, poised to swing down and strike the agent's head off at any moment.

"Special Agent Kurihara Daisuke. Daisuke the Demon, right? That's what they called you back when you ran with field ops."

"…Y-Yeah," the man stammered after a few agonizing moments, nodding his head. "Some people did."

"And why'd they start calling you that?"

Kurihara's eyes narrowed, and his mouth set into a hard line- his body was still trembling, but an air of determination had settled over him.

"Playing the strong, silent type, huh?" A peal of laughter echoed through the dark room the stream was being filmed in, and Kamakiri shook his head in bemusement. "Real brave of you, buddy. But I'm not the only one asking- don't you think the people deserve to know what you've been up to? I mean, thirteen years at the Commission- anyone would have some skeletons in the closet after that long. Lemme see if I can jog your memory, though. Does the name 'Strike Team Valkyrie' ring a bell?"

Kurihara's eyes widened reflexively in shock, then narrowed in frustration.

"I don't have to say a single goddamn thing to you," the man finally declared in a defiant tone, prompting an exaggerated sigh from Kamakiri; off to Reptilia's left, President Kengen's own brows had furrowed slightly as well, her lips pursed in displeasure. "Torture me all you want- it won't matter."

"You see what we're dealing with, guys? The smallest little question about what they're doing with all that public money, and they get all rude with ya. But hey, if he doesn't wanna talk to me, maybe he'll talk to my friend here."

The faint sound of footsteps became audible, steady and deliberate, and Setsuna felt a chill race up her spine as a calm, damningly familiar voice spoke up from off-camera.

"Tell us about Strike Team Valkyrie, Agent Kurihara."

"It was a covert special ops squad tasked with liquidating high-risk targets," Daisuke blurted in a forced, automatic tone, squeezing his eyes shut as his mouth continued to move involuntarily. "We reported directly to Safety Commission leadership- they gave us assignments that were too inflammatory to risk exposing to the public. Full deniability, no traceable records."

"God dammit, of course they have a double of Nemoto Shin." The president's hands curled into fists as her stoic aura finally gave way to anger; pivoting on a dime, she held up her radio in a vise grip, her knuckles white around the receiver. "Kengen to Legal- I need a team to get on the phone with every single network broadcasting this thing. They're going to take it down, immediately. I don't care how much they whine- this video is a threat to national security, and we have the legal right to prosecute them if they don't comply. Make sure they're all well-aware of that."

All the while, though, the stream continued to play on the monitor overhead, mocking Kengen's fury with each passing second of Kurihara's forced confession.

"And what was your role on this 'Strike Team Valkyrie?'"

"I came on as part of the cleanup crew after our missions- erasing evidence, disposing of bodies, pinning the casualties on accidents or local villains. After a year, I joined the interrogation unit."

"Progress?" Kengen snapped, practically burning a hole through Mera's head with the intensity of her glare; she'd begun to pace back and forth at the front of the room, and Setsuna felt herself shrinking instinctively behind Fatgum and Yoroi Musha.

"Ma'am, Legal has already begun calling TV stations and news sites as you instructed," Mera stammered, his eyes flitting nervously between Kengen and his datapad, "but please keep in mind, even with half the department working the phones, it will take some time to get through to-"

"Unfortunately, Mera, we don't have the luxury of time."

"Bodies? Casualties?"

Nemoto, meanwhile, had put on an air of faux incredulity, struggling to hide his amusement. The shock sweeping across the room of heroes, though, was very much genuine- Fatgum, Cellophane, Glamourous, and half a dozen others were staring at Kengen in disbelief, and she seemed to be keenly aware of their collective gaze.

"And where were these bodies coming from, Agent Kurihara? Did Valkyrie operations often result in fatalities?"

"Yes," Kurihara declared, a single word that struck like the blow of a hammer. "Assassination was our primary M.O.- preemptive strikes, taking out threats before they could act. We had standing orders to terminate any threats to our operations with extreme prejudice."

More and more of the heroes had shifted their focus Kengen now, watching her growing frustration with skepticism and disbelief. Quiet murmurs were audible at the fringes of the loose crowd, but with Best Jeanist at the base of the tower, it was painfully clear there that the remaining pros had no obvious leader to speak for them- none of them dared to address the president directly. Moments later, Ryukyu cleared her throat and started across the room, drawing the group's attention, but rather than confront Kengen, she drew to a halt before the windows and gestured outside.

"The evacuation is proceeding well, ma'am. Word of the broadcast seems to have spread, but Majestic, Shepherdess, and Jeanist are helping prevent a stampede."

"Good, that's… good." Kengen replied with a heavy sigh, rubbing at her eyelids. Her fiery contempt seemed to have died down somewhat, replaced by quiet resignation.

"Ma'am, would you like us to leave the room?" Ryukyu turned back to face the president, her hands clasped behind her back. If this truly is sensitive government intelligence, then…"

"There'd be no use in that," Kengen countered, her mouth set in a grim line. "The genie is already out of the bottle, as it were. We'll limit the damage as best we can, but it would be a fool's errand to try and insulate the vanguard of our counteroffensive from information that anyone with a smartphone now has access to. You'll need to be aware of everything they're leaking in order to formulate a response, no matter how… sensitive it may be."

Still rooted in place behind Yoroi Musha, Reptilia detached an eye and drifted it above Ryukyu's shoulder to get a better view of the action outside. Just as she'd said, most of the crowd was quickly dispersing, likely spooked by word of a Syndicate broadcast, but Majestic's discs, Shepherdess' vines, and Jeanist's fiber manipulation were proving invaluable, slowing and separating the fleeing protestors before they could trample each other. Mount Lady had enlarged to her full size, standing in the middle of the plaza and directing foot traffic around herself like a massive, talking signpost, while Gale Force and Nejire hovered above the mob, using precise gusts of wind and spirals of energy to help lift fallen protestors back to their feet and out of harm's way. It was an impressive display of coordination, but any pride Reptilia and the others felt was swiftly dampened by the increasingly smug, self-satisfied voice of Nemoto Shin, still reveling in his interrogation.

"I see. In a group like that, you must have had quite the record to come by that nickname of yours. Daisuke the Demon…" Slowly, calmly, Nemoto paced into the camera's view, his plague-masked visage as bone-chilling as ever. After exchanging a respectful nod with Kamakiri, he turned back towards the kneeling agent. "Back to our original question. Why don't you tell us how you earned it?"

"Tokyo One and Asahi Shimbun have agreed to take it down," Mera interjected, glancing up from his datapad with wide, bloodshot eyes. "Half a dozen smaller outlets, too. Sunrise Daily and the Kyoto Post are refusing, though."

"It's a start- keep pressing the holdouts, they'll come around. Tell Legal to contact the Ministry of Communications, get them to start making calls as well. Their team is probably five times the size of ours, but God knows how long they'll want to drag their feet on this." She shook her head in exasperation and glanced back at the stream, where Kurihara was in the midst of his confession.

"When I was assigned to interrogations, I could make anyone talk. I never took longer than twenty minutes to get the info we needed."

"I'll need you to be a bit more specific than that," Nemoto replied, chuckling. "Describe these 'interrogations' for our audience, if you'd be so kind."

"Anyone who had intel on our targets, we brought them to a blacksite and worked them over. Our CO played the good cop, I played the bad cop. If she couldn't convince 'em to talk the easy way, I came in and did it the hard way."

Kurihara was straining against his restraints as he spoke, fury and frustration plain in his eyes at the indignity of his situation, but a swift, vindictive kick to the arm from Kamakiri, followed by a few words whispered in his ear, seemed to take the fight out of him.

"I'd break their nose, wrists, fingers… anything to get the intel we needed. Sometimes I had to pull their teeth, if they were real stubborn. Since everything was off-the-books, there were no restrictions on what we could do, and I never hesitated. They told us it was all worth it in the end no matter how far we had to go, because we were saving lives."

"You mean saving the Safety Commission's precious reputation," Togaru scoffed, pressing the edge of one of his blades against the back of Kurihara's neck. "Don't give us that horseshit about saving lives- it was never about that, and deep down, you know it. That was just the noble excuse they sold you so you could sleep at night. It was about finding anything that could hurt the Commission and making it go away, no matter how much blood you had to spill."

"And the CO," Nemoto continued, picking up where he'd left off, "Strike Team Valkyrie's leader- who might that have been?"

Off to Setsuna's left, the president swore audibly and squeezed her eyes shut, running a hand through her hair.

Wait a goddamn minute. Reptilia's brows shot up in confusion, and she exchanged a brief, perplexed glance with Poltergeist. It wasn't the prez, right? How long ago was this?

"Lady Nagant. Our commanding officer was Lady Nagant."

Oh. Well, shit.

Though Setsuna's theory had been disproven, it seemed that the reality might be even worse; aside from the Syndicate, the meteoric rise and equally precipitous fall of Lady Nagant, former pro hero turned Tartarus inmate, was easily the Safety Commission's worst PR disaster in recent memory. A sniper of unparalleled skill thanks to her quirk, she'd been all the rage when Reptilia was in elementary school. While the boys in her class traded All Might and Endeavor action figures, Setsuna had proudly flaunted the pink and indigo Lady Nagant-themed lunchbox that her parents had given her for her ninth birthday. Hairclips, mechanical pencils, posters- for a short while, her merchandise was a smash hit among young girls and boys alike, and her signature ponytail hairstyle became ubiquitous among the former.

The story broke around a year later- Nagant had murdered a fellow hero in an argument. She was convicted and sentenced to life in Tartarus in short order, with no public access to her trial.

Back then, I was too young to understand what happened. I saw the press conferences on TV, the headlines in the news. When I asked mom and dad about it, they just said that Nagant did something bad, so she had to go away for a while. Setsuna shook her head, rubbing at one temple as the memories flooded back. The next day, the Nagant lunchbox wasn't in my bag anymore when I got to school- mom had replaced it with a Ryukyu one. The school confiscated any of her merch that was still floating around, and that was that. We were kids- we complained for a little while, but we moved on to the next thing fast. But if she was part of this 'Valkyrie' shit all along… She glanced back up at the monitor, frowning. Then what the hell really happened?

Around the room, the other heroes displayed a range of similarly confounded reactions; on the screen Kamakiri let out a bitter peal of laughter, basking in the moment.

"Yeah, that's a real head-spinner, ain't it? I can hear those government censors droppin' dead from strokes all the way from here." Kamakiri rose back to his feet and held out his right arm, creating a blade from his elbow in an imitation of Nagant's Rifle quirk. "Back in the day, the Commission made a real big show of condemning what she did, but when you peel back all the lies and bullshit, turns out they'd spent years making her into their own personal executioner. They trained the perfect attack dog, but then it bit the hand that fed it. Ain't that right, Special Agent?"

"Go to hell," Kurihara growled, seizing a brief moment of freedom before he was forced to resume his confessions. "You've got no idea what the fuck you're talking about. Tsutsumi Kaina was a true goddamn hero- she saved more lives than most pros ever will."

"If that's the case," Nemoto chimed in, "then why is she rotting in Tartarus? Whatever did she do wrong, Agent Kurihara?"

"She killed the Safety Commission President," Kurihara blurted, prompting a few confused glances aimed at Kengen. "There was a big coverup- they never officially told us what happened, but everyone on Valkyrie knew. None of us bought the story they fed to the public."

Not Kengen, but the one before her, Setsuna realized. I remember him dying really suddenly, supposedly in a car crash or something- that must've been right around the same time Nagant went to Tartarus.

"And why would she do something like that?"

"I don't know, but she wouldn't have done it without a good reason." For once, there seemed to be genuine conviction in Kurihara's forced response. "I figure he was probably dirty, and she capped him when she found out."

"Interesting theory- I'm sure the government will be more than happy to comment on it!" Nemoto rubbed his hands together in delight. "So, what happened to the strike team after her imprisonment?"

"They scrubbed the whole thing, split us up and reassigned everyone. They were worried we'd still be too loyal to Nagant, so we were all transferred to different departments."

"Well, looks like they were right about that. And that's how you went from black ops missions to disciplinary hearings for goddamn high schoolers." Kamakiri squatted down until he was at eye level with Kurihara, a widening smirk on his face. "Lucky you, huh? Talk about a downgrade, man. Now, we'll get to your verdict soon enough, but let's be sure we don't forget Agent Fukai." Rising to his feet, Togaru turned to face his second captive. "She's been real patient, after all, and she's got a hell of an act to follow."

Another swift, precise slash, and Fukai's gag was cut as well; her gaze remained fixed on the floor, though, her brows furrowed in determination as her body shivered against the cold.

"Well, looks like we've got two of the strong, silent type, huh?" Kamakiri chuckled again, then shrugged his shoulders. "What, no witty remarks? You always had a nice little speech about discipline and moral fortitude ready for me whenever you two barged into U.A. to remind me what a fuckup I was." Togaru shook his head and ran a hand down his chin. "So imagine my surprise when I heard about your little arrangement with Ketsubutsu and those other hero schools."

Fukai's head jolted upward, her red eyes wide with a mix of shock and outrage; off to Kengen's left, Ms. Joke and Epicenter seemed equally taken aback.

"You don't know what you're saying. That's not…" The agent quickly trailed off, pursing her lips in frustration.

"Aww, cat got your tongue? And right when we were about to make some progress, too." Kamakiri rose to his feet and sighed, glancing back toward the camera. "Again, you see what we're dealing with here. No transparency, no accountability. Which leaves us no choice but to rely on our friend here."

On cue, Nemoto stepped forward once more.

"Let's start simple- tell us about your work, Special Agent."

As Fukai began to ramble disjointedly about her duties as a Disciplinary Investigations Officer, the president's radio crackled to life once more, drawing Setsuna's attention.

"Cyber here- I think we've got something, ma'am."

"Go ahead."

Turning away from the screen, Kengen gestured for the assembled heroes to gather around her and listen; Setsuna started forward as well, still hand-in-hand with Reiko.

"To keep it simple, they're using the same type of encryption keys that they did for their streams on the Black Day. This is what we've been prepping for, and so far, our upgraded decryption programs are working like a charm. It's not fully decoded yet, but we're starting to get a picture of the stream's metadata."

"Excellent." For the first time since the stream began, a partial smile returned to Kengen's face, and she nodded in approval. "Excellent work. Now, does that mean we can tell where it's being broadcast from?"

"We're working on narrowing that down now, ma'am- we can tell you it's coming from inside Tokyo, though. If the current pattern holds, likely Asakusa or Ueno."

"Start mobilizing resources towards those neighborhoods- quietly. Use plainclothes officers and unmarked vehicles, and prioritize heroes with stealth capabilities. If we tip our hand like we did on Shikoku, it's almost guaranteed that they'll have Longshot and Kurogiri set up for another crossfire, and this time, it would be in the middle of the capital, not the mountains. Based on what we can glean from the video, we're looking for somewhere with a large refrigeration unit- the meatlocker of a butcher's shop or the cold storage area of a restaurant or laboratory, perhaps. Cross-reference potential target locations accordingly, and keep me updated."

"Yes, ma'am. Of course, ma'am."

Pocketing the radio, Kengen turned to face the former U.A. teachers.

"Ectoplasm. How are you with high speeds?"

"Ma'am?"

"Any motion sickness? Vertigo?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good. Report to the roof and wait for pickup."

Kengen gave him a brisk nod of dismissal, then turned to the side and held two fingers to her earpiece as Ectoplasm hurried through the doors.

"Gale Force, can you hear me? Good. How quickly can you be in Asakusa? Yes, of course. You're going to retrieve Ectoplasm from the roof, then move to these coordinates and await further orders." The president reached down and tapped a few buttons on the screen of her smartwatch, summoning a map and selecting a location pin approximately midway between the two neighborhoods in question. "Once we give you a target, Ectoplasm will dispatch a group of his clones into the building to check for Syndicate presence. If he gives you confirmation, enact Hammer Protocol immediately. Yes. Yes, I understand that. The order stands, Gale Force."

Once the exchange was done, Kengen let out a short, exasperated sigh, a grimace on her face; outside the windows, Setsuna watched as Yoarashi rose up above the crowd, heading for the roof. Within moments, though, the president had regained her disciplined demeanor and opened a second comm channel.

"Jeanist, Majestic, Shepherdess, Nejire- follow behind Gale Force and Ectoplasm and spread out over the target area. Once we give you a location, render assistance as necessary if there are any civilians in the vicinity. Yes, that's correct. Defer to Jeanist as necessary."

A few seconds later, the group of heroes lifted into the air, the first three hovering on Majestic's discs while Nejire provided her own propulsion. Yoarashi and his human cargo outpaced them before they even cleared the block, though, vanishing into the distance amid a concussive blast of air that reverberated even through the sealed and sound-dampened glass.

"Do you have any directives for the rest us?" Gang Orca stepped forward next, his red-white eyes narrowed in concern. Kurihara's confession had produced an air of tension and unease in the room, but it was already fading, replaced by rigid discipline. Whatever qualms the heroes had about Strike Team Valkyrie, they could be aired out after the current danger had passed.

When it comes down to it, they all still trust her, Setsuna reminded herself, still squeezing Reiko's hand. Enough to keep doing their jobs, at least. They're not letting the Syndicate rattle them with some big shock reveal designed to psych us out- it's the least we can do to follow their example.

"Yes, I do. We've remained in this location for long enough, and my security team is likely to resign in protest if I don't initiate evacuation protocol." Kengen turned and gestured towards the screen, where Agent Fukai was in the midst of confessing to taking bribes from numerous hero schools in exchange for leniency in disciplinary investigations of their students. "Given this broadcast's focus on the Public Safety Commission, it's clear that my agency is the Syndicate's 'theme' for today- needless to say, this building is a potential target for attack. In accordance with Wild Hunt protocols, we'll begin to evacuate all non-mission-critical personnel from the premises immediately. I'll be moving to a secure command center to continue coordinating our response, and all of you will be joining my security detail until further notice. Before we depart, though, there are a few last measures we need to take."

Kengen reached out and laid a hand on the leather-clad shoulder of Utsushimi Camie, whose eyes widened in surprise.

"Glamourous, dear- you've increased the duration of your illusions to around fifteen minutes, yes?"

"Y-Yeah, that's right." Clearly taken aback, Camie stammered through her response at first, but quickly steadied herself, straightening to attention. "I can push it to almost twenty on a good day, though."

"Well, let's hope that today's a good day, then." Kengen allowed herself a brief smirk, though it quickly reverted to her usual scowl. "Now, listen carefully, and do exactly as I tell you."

---

"Command protocols are synchronized, all Furies fully operational. Guns and missile tubes locked and loaded, laser cutters charged. Response lag clocking in at… four milliseconds. I could do better, but it's good enough in a pinch."

"Sounds more than just 'good enough' to me- hell of a job getting these things up and running on schedule. What's the hero response looking like, though? Are they deploying like we predicted?"

"Yep- Gale Force is already halfway across the city, so you're in the clear, Mustard. They did us the courtesy of taking Majestic and Jeanist off the table too, so that's two less contingencies we have to activate. Yoroi Musha and Gang Orca are probably the two biggest threats still with her, but as long as we stick to the plan, they won't even have a chance to interfere."

"Hell, even if they do, I'm more than fast enough to get around 'em. I've seen the way they move in combat- they're hard hitters, but slow. Besides, they're not the ones I need to carve."

"Speaking of carving, I look forward to seeing you at work, Master Scimitar- Toga and Master Shinso have some wonderful stories about you and those blades of yours."

"I'll bet they do. But you're no slacker either, man- you were a total beast at Tokyo PD. What was it, twenty heroes you killed all on your own? Plus like forty cops."

"Hey- focus up, you two. What's our timeline looking like, Longshot? How long until they figure out what's going on with the video?"

"They're making pretty quick work of the encryption- La Brava says it should be another two, three minutes before they either crack enough of the metadata or notice the edits. They definitely haven't figured it out yet, or they wouldn't have split up their group like that."

"All the more reason to move out now- my blades are starting to itch here."

Stretching his arms high above his head, Kamakiri sighed in satisfaction as his shoulders let out a series of pops, then blinked his eyes back open and nodded towards Kurogiri.

"Come on, you ready for us, Kuro?"

"I am, Scimitar, but I'll remind you once more that there's no turning back once I open the warp gates. They'll be detected immediately, and it's crucial that no heroes be allowed through before they're closed again."

"Yeah, yeah, we've been over it a dozen times. Trust me, buddy, no one's gettin' past the Furies."

Kamakiri jerked a thumb towards the trio of hulking, four-meter combat mechs lined up behind him on the abandoned warehouse's cracked and overgrown concrete floor, each sporting enough custom weaponry for a small armored battalion. To his right, Hatsume was currently perched atop Megaera, held aloft by her harness of segmented servo-arms as she ran a few last-minute checks on its command module; to his left, Mustard was adjusting the fit of his masked helmet while Dark Shadow peered over the shoulder of his trench coat, a wide grin on its beaked face.

"Show some excitement, why don't ya?" The sentient quirk let out an avian cackle, drumming its shadowy fingers against the top of Mustard's helmet. "We're finally partnering up again! And trust me, I have a good feeling about today."

"That makes two of us!" Longhshot slid down off of Megaera's chassis and let the servo-arms ease her to the floor, a manic gleam in her eyes- there was no telling how many of Pandora's stimulants she was on at the moment, but Togaru could venture an educated guess for the general range. "Oh, I'm getting goosebumps, guys- I haven't been able to personally field-test my babies against heroes since the Black friggin' Day!"

"That's the spirit!" Dark Shadow cried in delight, wrapping itself around Mei's shoulders like a scarf; given her role in creating the devices that had unshackled the quirk from its former owner, the two shared a close bond. "Savor the thrill, Master Hatsume. A few seconds from now, those guns are going to be tearing heroes limb from limb."

Not a moment later, a loud ping sounded from Kamakiri's phone- a quick glance confirmed that it was the go-signal from La Brava that they'd been waiting for.

"Alright, buckle up!" Scimitar bellowed, crafting a row of angled blades from each of his arms. "It's our turn now- let's make 'em hurt!"

On cue, the four-man strike team retreated back behind the Furies; the instant they were clear, Kurogiri raised his arms and summoned a massive black warp gate directly in front of the row of mechs. Three massive gatling guns began to spin up in unison, a low, humming sound that filled the air.

"Targets locked, standby." Longshot stepped up next to Scimitar and held out the gauntlet on her arm, currently projecting a holographic interface that displayed the mechs' current status. "Wanna do the honors? Voice command is online."

"Oh, you better believe it."

Kamakiri drew in a deep breath, flexing his fingers back and forth as time seemed to slow to a crawl all around him. Eight months. Eight months, all for this moment. Memories were flashing through his head at lightning speed- Tomoki's smiling face, the smell of ramen and cigarette smoke, the night breeze on his skin. The three yakuza- apprehension that gave way to rage, then the rush of pleasure and adrenaline as his blades cleaved through flesh and bone. One, two, three- despite their profession, they'd all looked so surprised when he killed them. Even now, the image of their blood dripping spilled across the alley floor stirred up something primal in his chest; his heartrate began to quicken in anticipation, his blades steadily lengthening of their own accord. Then, after the slaughter, the kiss with Toga, Midoriya's firm hand on his arm, Monoma's familiar laughter. And the-

The rush of images came to a sudden halt, and Kamakiri's grin turned to a frown. Along with the memory of Toga's bloodsoaked tongue in his mouth, his mind had dredged up his first kiss with Tokage Setsuna- the worry in her eyes as she cupped his cheeks in her hands. Yanagi Reiko's face was soon to follow, then Kuroiro Shihai, Yosetsu Awase, Kaibara Sen.

No. Not now.

Squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment, Kamakiri purged his former classmates from his mind and forced himself to focus back on his blades- on the blissful sensation of stabbing Aizawa through the spine, the surge of cathartic delight that had come from beheading Kurihara and Fukai just a few hours prior. Hate surged through his veins along with the excitement, a mix of fury and anticipation: any lingering traces of nostalgia or regret were swiftly smothered.

Scimitar let out his breath in a long sigh, then leaned down towards Longshot's interface and curled his hands into white-knuckled fists.

"Open fire."

---

And here we are, back again! Apologies for the long hiatus, guys. If you can believe it, back in early February, I was feeling pretty confident about getting this chapter done by Valentine's Day- three months later, it's finally here, and about twice as long as I was expecting! I could point to a few external factors for slowing me down, like a busy new job and binging Better Call Saul and Breaking Bad, but mostly, it was that damn HPSC sequence- it took me multiple drafts and a lot of rewriting to get it to a place where I was satisfied with it, because there's just so much ground I wanted to cover.

But enough ranting- leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter down below! I've ended up expanding Kamakiri's character way beyond what I originally thought it was going to be, so I hope you all liked his flashback with Toga- the night he officially broke bad, so to speak. And I can't say how excited I am to be bringing Star and Stripe into the story- I've been wanting to include her ever since she showed up in the manga, not to mention Lady Nagant. Any thoughts on what the Syndicate and heroes' competing plans here might be? I'm also really curious to hear people's thoughts about Shiozaki/Shepherdess. Some of the internal developments she went through during her flashback were definitely inspired by a character I love from another famous manga, and I'm curious if anyone picked up on the parallel.

Also, this four month gap got me thinking- would any of you guys be interested in an official twitter or discord server for this story, so I could post updates on my progress and not leave you guys hanging? Whenever I have a long break between chapters, I always find myself wanting to let everyone know how things are coming, but dropping a comment doesn't reach everyone. Anyway, it's just an idea, but let me know what you think in the reviews.

Update: After some consideration, I've now made an official Twitter account to provide periodic updates on my progress as I work on new chapters! I might also use it to give some light commentary on the MHA manga and other manga/anime I'm currently reading/watching, run polls, and anything else I can think of. Follow me at ImperiumScribe!