Chapter 4: Into the Belly of the Beast/The Grim and Gruesome Aftermath
Present Day
Old, dead flesh-like grafts paint the walls and ceiling. Giving testimony, gouges and scratches tell of the strength once contained.
"Radiation level nominal. Spore saturation nominal. Chemical background nominal. Biological material present but inert. Mandate decontamination for entry and exit until further notice," Asashima says in his gas mask. The new scanner detects something. The older models have proven useless. He puts it away.
A frown blooms walking to another growth. The rate of decay still contradicts what the devices detect. He'll have to rely on his quirk alone—bacteria, viruses, and fungi have unique reactions to it. This…material looks and acts like fungus, yet decays slower than either it or bacteria. Simple deduction indicates a virus base; their rapid adaptation and longevity makes them deadly even in the modern age.
It is only right to be cautious. Diseases flourished during the chaos of previous centuries, along with the release of potent biological and chemical weapons. Too many medical advancements were lost in the generational chaos. But that can change. The world is clawing itself back into order. Discoveries by Matagi and others around the world—sanitized, filtered back—were pillars of modern life in Japan.
Asashima writes down his observations. The prior airlock area had been carefully documented; the human remains had caused a storm, though: they were American bodies. The lab techs would try their best to analyze them, but would be obligated to return the corpses soon.
He's grateful this area has none. The team will be able to move on soon. An hour must have passed and yet they have only progressed a kilometer down the long hallway. It feels like an endless hotel corridor, save for the bio-waste. The few rooms found were brief escapes from the monotony—but not much. Any equipment and records inside were long destroyed by the ravages of time or the strange growths.
Well, he personally thinks it's monotonous: not everyone feels the same. Ueda is tense. His quirk surrounds him in a safety bubble, filtering everything but oxygen; the masks provided to them all do the same, but the quirk envelops Ueda in multiple layers of protection. The sight makes his salaryman-like figure look absurd. The large rifle in his thin hands almost doesn't belong. But he knows better: Ueda is a highly trained professional.
And prone to superstition. The omens outside are most unkind. "Stuff it with explosives, light the fuse, pretend it never existed," Ueda had said on the ride to the facility.
The other two members of their team watch Asashima. Their talents are…different from investigative work. Nishimura looms menacingly. That and his ripped gloves lend him a Yakuza impression. The holes are for his quirk. One hand spits sparks, the other belches reactive gas; he uses a canister and a modified-flamethrower. It all makes him a one-man incineration crew. Yasui is slightly shorter and more defensive. His mutations make him extremely hard to put down; he's tough inside and out. In most operations, Yasui is the designated survivor.
Asashima's team is worth more than the sum of their quirks, of course. They have years of training and dedication to their job. Better ten loyal men than ten powerful quirks as the saying went; they know their worth to the government; they know the value of silence. They're the top NBC unit Japan has to offer.
"Let's move on," Asashima says, finally. They push further into the complex.
Behind him, Yasui brings up Ueda's words from the ride. The tall man is argumentative, especially when he has a point to prove. "You know as well as I do there's no surefire way to really cleanse a place like this. This shit could end up airborne, spreading throughout the island."
"If it hadn't escaped for this long, chances are if we dig under, hollow it out, and rig it to blow, everything would be buried too deeply to ever escape," Ueda says. His tone is calm.
Nishimura hums in agreement. One hand clenches and unclenches in eagerness.
Ueda's mixture of superstitiousness and white-collar respectability is almost cult-like, Asashima thinks. It's amusing in a way that he also tends to be right for the wrong reasons. However, the Japanese government has a more grand—and greedier—plan for this facility.
Site discoveries have dwindled over the years; the few—untouched, unblemished—unearthed in recent times are better hidden than in decades past. And more valuable. These days, they are all international tales of treasures, breakthroughs, and historical finds. France now boasts a first draft of Napoleon's legal code, royal jewels, and other findings in their national museum—all after unearthing one facility holding items of cultural significance. But that is not all: Japan hasn't missed how France received a windfall of prestige and tourism as well.
Similar stories have played out across other parts of the globe. In the badlands of Australia, they found the missing third of pre-quirk gold bullion, hundreds of crates of advanced weapons, and an Eden Rebirth Kit meant to revive the region around it into a verdant paradise. Japan had watched the news break with badly-hidden envy.
With tourists chasing other hotspots and a recession threatening the economy, Japan's government is chasing a hail mary: there are few facilities in Japan to begin with, yet they're banking on objects of value or significance left by America. The political web they spun and found themselves trapped in will not allow anything else; the party in power needs a win. The declining crime rate hasn't brought back tourism or the economy as promised.
There were always multiple facets for a country's success. Unless—Japan finds their golden goose. And so it is, Asashima and his team dive deep while old politicians sit in their offices.
"Let's hope nothing horrifying, deadly, or world ending is down there, yeah?" Ueda says with his fingers crossed. The others sigh or roll their eyes. Asashima grunts in agreement.
They'd be proven wrong on two accounts at least. Three if they screwed up what was to come…
The further into the facility they go, the more Asashima uses his quirk: he aggressively purges pantheons; when he encounters more red and black growths, he makes sure to sterilize every bit of them. Invisible to the eye, the microorganisms rot away. It becomes tedious quickly. Every room is contaminated, every paper and device beyond salvage—the viral growths and time prime suspects.
Asashima doesn't ask Nishimura to cleanse with him; an inferno is risky. The team doubts the filters and ventilation systems work properly despite the steady hum of power in the background.
Some scenes have become common: broken turrets littered with used shells lay every dozen feet, pointed deeper towards the facility; large, unnerving splatters dominate impromptu battle zones; countless gouges, tears, gashes and bullet holes are everywhere.
No less unsettling are the hints of clean-up: there are no corpses next to large stained areas of concrete—like someone dragged them away, or otherwise vanished them. The facility is older than quirks, but Asashima feels less and less confident the explanation is something mundane.
The rest of his team feels the same way; the silence and lack of any bodies besides the airlocked 'survivors' creates a tense environment. Ueda once more voices the desire to leave and bury the facility, to greater assent. Even Yasui considers it. Asashima is tempted, very tempted, but there is pressure from above he has to consider: the government demands substantial results from them. They want something exceptional. So he reassures them with a heavy heart and they press on.
Finally, they reach the end of the facility. The massive, stadium-size area has multiple branching catwalks. He knows it should be a treasure chest, like other black sites; here, it is a nightmare.
Multiple tanks are torn apart or upside down, as though a giant ruined their toys, and the mystery of the missing corpses is answered in the most gruesome way possible: they are all amalgamated together, in a Frankenstein creation straight out of 20th century cinema. There are eye sockets with claws growing out; open chests with bony outgrowths, a fusion of humanity and strange growths; arms dangling free of the pile at random areas, fingers long and bony; and mouths with fingernails for teeth. It is an abomination that cannot decide what it should be.
And it is dead and well-rotten. Soot-marked fire and holes share a story of desperate survival. Deep, imprinted footsteps lead to the end of the facility, gradually turning smaller. Asashima notices the amalgamation is bisected cleanly, though half is completely missing. He has the rest of the team go well around it, just in case. Tentatively, Asashima edges closer and uses his quirk. Flakes of bone and flesh dissolve away in dust—the only sort of tissues to stand the test of time.
The sights numb him in horror; this is like an awful horror movie, or some over-the-top video game, he thinks. He clings to the NBC unit's purpose like a lifeline. Against his better judgment, he leaves the corpses as they are. He knows the government will wish to investigate the bodies.
It takes some more prodding, but the team goes deeper in. Asashima finds piles of scientific equipment, smashed beyond all recognition—but one: a cryogenics machine with glass completely iced over. The imprinted footsteps end there.
A severed hand is poised over the controls, reduced to tendons and bone. Asahima moves closer and uses his quirk on it. It fades to dust faster than anything else in the facility.
His heart feels joy for the first time in this operation; the machine alone makes the venture worthwhile. And who or whatever is in there will be the cherry on top. An old-world scientist would be invaluable. Preserved documents, a prototype, even some famous would-be VIP acceptable. A superhuman…is impossible. The facility is older than quirks, Asashima reminds himself again: the carnage must be because of some biological superweapon, made inert by the decay of generations.
There are explanations, he knows, and Japan will uncover them.