It was an entirely ordinary day at first. I woke up, going through the motions. Shave, shower, and prepare for work. Nothing special.

I only noticed something was wrong when the bus didn't arrive. For ten minutes I waited on that bench, cars zooming by, the autumn morning slowly waking me. Considering I typically arrived within a minute of the usual time, it was a bizarre shift from the norm.

There weren't any notices about the bus being canceled at the bus station or online, which finally got me to glower at the road, searching for any sign of the bus. It was nowhere to be found. But that moment of searching found something else missing: every single driver.

The roads are busy as usual. It's not the cars missing, just every person inside them. The empty shells of metal whirred by, driven by seemingly nothing.

I stared, dumbfounded, as the impossible sight played itself out. My eyes darted between cars, unsure what to make of the scene.

Then a car swerved off the road, heading straight for me. It audibly accelerated, gaining as much speed as it could in the little time it had before colliding.

I threw myself from my seat and out of the bus stop, narrowly avoiding death. The vehicle tore through the bench and the small structure, demolishing its engine and rendering it inert.

I scrambled to my feet just in time to see the rest of the cars turn in my direction.

I don't know how I survived. Cars barely missed me as I ran as fast as I could, hurdling themselves into buildings with abandon. Windows smashed, walls crumbled, and I skirted death with every step I made.

I escaped into a small alley, a truck too large to fit into the passage crashing and blocking the way behind me. Vehicles smashed into it, trying to force through, but I had bought myself some time.

Headlights lit up across the alleyway.

Blocking my way forward was a small car, just small enough to fit into the alley but too large to allow any space to maneuver around it. And, of course, it began accelerating.

In a desperate attempt for survival, I hurled myself at the nearest door in the alley. The door was old and wooden, and with my adrenaline-fueled desperation, I had enough strength to smash through the decrepit door. My body collapsed through the doorway as the car shot by and turned the truck at the end into an accurate representation of my emotional state.

But I had fucking survived. I survived… the Skynet uprising? Did Tesla's self-driving software develop murderous intent?

That didn't matter. What did matter was my body hurt. I had splinters all over me, and I knew the shoulder I used to hurl myself at the door would be nice and purple soon.

I pulled myself up, beginning a slow walk. It took a minute to navigate the unfamiliar building, but I found my way to the roof access. It was a painful climb up the flights of stairs, but I managed the pain well enough.

I cracked open the door to the roof, hearing the sweet sound of silence. Much better than the sound of my imminent demise, in my opinion. I walked to the edge of the building, and suddenly silence seemed a lot more ominous.

Cars, as far as the eye could see, all facing in my direction. Aside from the few dozen vehicles that had attempted to turn me into a smear, they were all turned to point directly at the place where I stood.

The sun dimmed as a shadow went overhead. I looked up, expecting a cloud. Instead, I got a plane.

My eyes widened as the adrenaline kicked in again. The plane wasn't just passing overhead, it was diving directly at me! I spun around, looking for a way out.

I found it. With a fortifying breath, I began my sprint. I ran towards one of the edges, gambling my fate. The building on the other side of the alley was a story shorter, I could make it!

My feet left the ground, propelling me across the alleyway. I was no athlete: my jump wasn't particularly impressive. I managed to make it by a hair, my upper body landing heavily on the roof. It knocked the wind out of me, leaving me breathless with my legs dangling over the edge as I clutched for my life.

The impossibly loud crash came not a second later. It was horrifically discombobulating and kicked up tons of dust and debris, but I had survived. The building I was just on had not.

I heaved myself up, looking back on the destruction as the dust cleared. I just sat there for a moment, blankly. Feeling of muted terror, mild awe at the sheer destruction, and above all: sheer incomprehension of what had just happened.

A loud noise re-engaged me. It was a sound I knew: the sound of an approaching high-speed plane. I groaned as I turned to see the source.

"Really?" I spat out, righteous indignation and a cold, burning rage at my situation brewing inside me.

This wasn't a transportation aircraft like the last. This was a fully-fledged military jet, carving its way through the skies. I glared at the craft, daring it to head my way. I didn't have a clue what I would do if it did, my body was beaten and exhausted already. I glared regardless.

It didn't kamikaze me like the rest, though. It simply flew overhead, dropping something. Oh, shit.

I threw myself to the side, once again surviving my death by a moment as a massive hunk of steel cratered into the roof. It punched through into the floor below, leaving a hole where I had just stood.

Curiously, I hobbled over to the hole. I gazed down into the pit, realizing that it had punched through not just one, but two floors down. The object was not one I ever wanted to see.

It was a textbook warhead, an egg of doom. The warhead was pitch black aside from the debris covering it, and a bright, yellow symbol on the side. A yellow circle with a black trefoil, the infamous symbol for a radioactive hazard.

"Oh, SHI—"

My world went dark.


I woke to the sound of slow, mocking clapping. My hearing was crisp and clear and my body seemed fine, not quite what I was expecting. Mainly, because I wasn't expecting anything ever again.

I opened my eyes to a damp, mossy cave. I sat in a comfortable loveseat, fully intact. Sharing the room with me was a… figure? It sat at a desk, clapping at me.

"What the fuck am I looking at?" I muttered. I think it's humanoid, but my brain seemed to short-circuit whenever I attempted to grasp precisely what I stared at.

"Not bad!" It guffawed, "You helped me a lot, surviving that long."

That made me tense. So, this is the guy who nuked me?

"Well, tangentially, maybe," The figure hummed, "More accurately, I was betting on you. And, yes, I am reading your thoughts."

"So, I helped you out," I inquired after a moment. "What does that mean for me?"

A horrifying grin lit up on its face, with uncountable deadly teeth. "That requires a bit more explanation. See, me and some… friends, are involved with a group that deals with hijacking souls. We find someone we want to reincarnate, arrange their demise, and send them off to their hopefully entertaining future.

"Now, we like to have fun with it, and betting on how long it takes for someone to kick the bucket is always a hoot! I put some high stakes on you surviving till the end, and you delivered."

"So, again," I questioned, "What does that mean for me?"

"Reincarnation, of course! Dipshit." It insulted me, "But you were getting that anyway. But if you mean my bets in particular, it means that instead of sending you to your certain death, I'm sending you to your likely death."

A moment of silence passed as I processed that.

"Please, elaborate."

The maw's toothy grin stretched beyond the outline of the figure.

"No."

My head ignited in blinding pain, leaving me to clutch helplessly at my pounding skull. The figure spoke some more, but I was too far gone to comprehend it. I writhed, agony my only experience until I reached a reprieve. I wasn't able to speak, I was barely able to think and listen.

"Oh, that'll work. I'll even help you out and throw in your full trigger. Have fun!~" It taunted.

My world became agony again.


The first thing I noticed was an entire set of new memories, experiences, and beliefs. I had the full knowledge of an entire human experience, and I was currently going about the daily business of my new body.

Particularly, I was a seventeen-year-old, recently emancipated orphan. I was on the way to bring my cat to a veterinarian. Originally, it had been my mother's cat. I had been holding her during the evacuation of Kyushu when my parents were hit with a stray water blast from Leviathan. That memory implied a terrible amount about the situation I was placed in.

Mei was a tabby cat who had recently been diagnosed with a malignant mammary tumor. I was on my way to get her treated for her cancer, because I was going to give this cat the best and most lavish life I could give. It was the least I could do for the memory of my family.

Unfortunately, the facility was just slightly into Empire88 territory, which led to the situation I was currently in. Dragged into an alleyway by a pair of neo-nazi thugs for the charge of being an unaccompanied Asian in their land. I didn't say a word, the shock of a sudden takeover of a new existence was too jarring for any coherent thought. I just stiffly held Mei, who had now begun to hiss at the pair.

The Nazis were yelling in my face, now interrogating me. "Do you even speak English, you fucking Chink?" he growled.

Holy shit. That's the most aggressively racist thing I had ever heard. In both of my lifetimes.

In a smooth motion, the nazi pulled a gun from his waist, placed it on my cat's head, and pulled the trigger. As I stared at the viscera, my eyes blurred, and then suddenly shot into crystal clear focus. I suddenly knew that from this moment on, I would forever be able to recall it with traumatically perfect clarity.

The clarity faded as I blinked. I wasn't able to forget the memory, even as the other gang member punched me in the face, knocking me to the ground.

The gunshot had drawn attention, as even in my addled state I was able to perceive a blonde fly in and land a punch on the guy with the gun. He crumpled instantly, dropping the firearm on the ground. As it hit the pavement, a shot went off, just happening to punch into my leg.

I screamed. It had to be a broken femur, but I didn't expect it to be this agonizing.

In my agony, I missed the girl I now recognized as Glory Girl punch out the other thug and dial someone on her phone. She was listing off a set of crossroads I recognized as near the Boardwalk, scooped me up, and began to fly in that direction.

She flew me into an alley where she set me down, promising that help would be on the way soon. I just gritted my teeth and nodded.

A moment later, a mousy girl with brown hair and freckles came jogging over. She panted heavily, clearly not used to the physical exertion.

"So, this is the guy you got shot?" She grumbled.

"No!" Glory Girl squeaked.

Panacea in her civilian attire, I now recognized. I recalled some defining character traits were wanting to be recognized as an individual and feeding her power insufficient fleshcrafting abominations.

"Do I have permission to heal you?" She kneeled. I realized I was still holding Mei, her sudden pitying glance at my pet reminding me.

"Please," I rasped out. She placed her hand on mine and suddenly there wasn't any pain. "And feel free to write 'Amy was here' on my liver."

The girl got caught between a snort and a cough. She gathered herself in a moment, and I felt a bullet pop out of my skin and my leg suddenly lost a hole. I felt another sudden pull of amusement on my emotions, and in a sudden burst of energy within me, threw it off.

Panacea pulled me to my feet before turning to her sister. "You're lucky you got him to me. He managed to get hit in both the artery and femur. Did you get whoever did this? It would be a manslaughter charge otherwise."

"No," Glory Girl shook her head, projecting a feeling of remorse, which I once again threw off after a moment. She turned to me. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to get them, but I was more worried about getting you to safety."

"It's alright," I shook my head, "I understand. I appreciate it." I looked at Panacea. "And thank you, too. I owe you my life." I then gave her a short bow.

She was a little surprised by the response. "Uh, it's alright? No need to owe me your life. If you need to use a crematorium for your pet, I could get the hospital I volunteer at to use wherever they're contracted to."

"Amy!" Glory Girl gasped.

"I was just trying to help!" Panacea defended.

"That would be helpful. I have no idea what to do about this myself," I sighed. "I wasn't expecting this day to come so soon."

That brought another wave of sadness, which I tossed off a little quicker this time.

"I'll fly you both over there," Glory Girl scooped us up in an arm each, flying into the air.


I made my way home with an urn of ashes. It was more money than a ceramic container should ever cost, but I could afford it.

My home was a small house my father owned for when he flew over to the Brockton Bay branch of whatever he did. I was too young to understand what exactly my father had done for work, he preferred to spend his time drinking with his work friends. It, along with a moderate inheritance of assets and cash, was what my parent's family friends had managed to find.

The only other things were the tea set and the family sword, foraged from our demolished home. One of my grandparents was a military officer back when they gave out swords, supposedly.

Owning property meant that getting through the eventual refugee system was surprisingly easy. I got citizenship without issue, then eventually dropped out of high school in favor of getting my GED.

Now I live alone, with enough savings to last me for a few years, if I was very frugal. The building was thankfully in PRT territory, so I didn't have to worry about being press-ganged into the ABB or randomly offed by the 88. I put Mei's ashes on a shelf, sighing as I turned away. I went to the mirror, staring at myself.

I pulled upon the feeling of blurring vision that I vividly remembered and my eyes changed. My vision immediately sharpened and my reflection was imprinted with perfect clarity, my slender, pale Japanese face with blood-red eyes and black hair. I wore it with a middle part, my hair going down to my shoulders evenly.

I was absolutely a Uchiha, I realized. I had the looks for it, the Sharingan, and my memory spat out the name of my new identity as one Uchiha Indra. Alternatively in the US, legally named Indra Uchiha.

I had a single tomoe spinning in my eye, the start of a dangerous pair of Sharingan. I broke from looking at the mirror, instead turning my eyes to my hands. I could see coils of chakra spread through them, and when I looked further down I saw the core of my energy nestled in my stomach.

I pulled upon the core, guiding the energy through my body. As it spread through me, a strength I was unfamiliar with spread out through my whole body. I pulled my fist back and threw a punch.

With my enhanced sight I was now suddenly able to perceive the delay between mentally giving the command to punch and the response of my arm moving. Moreover, I had an inexplicable knowledge of exactly how my fist would go through the air, precisely the angle and final destination.

My punch flew, and it was exactly as I predicted. It wasn't a skilled punch, but with the chakra flowing through me, it was far quicker than anything I would naturally be able to throw. I mimicked the act of throwing off Glory Girl's aura, my chakra coils flashing up. I suppose I now had a way to resist Master effects. Thank you, chakra.

I then noticed the note on my desk. It was a new addition to the room since I left, according to my memories.

It read, "You're welcome for the complimentary chakra system. I even spoofed the healer's senses to keep your cover! That isn't your real bonus, though. I've made you a precognitive blind spot. I figure if I want things to be interesting, I best make it so you don't get immediately killed. That's the last gift you'll get from me."


My first act was to purchase tickets to various martial arts events along with a pair of sunglasses. I had the Sharingan, it was my moral obligation to cheat and steal as many techniques as I could.

This was Earth Bet, arguably one of the worst places in existence. Moreover, this was Brockton Bay. I needed every bit of power I possibly could to just survive what was going to happen, and even then, the world would get mostly destroyed by Scion.

It was January of 2011, meaning I only had a bit of time before things kicked off. I decided that Canon was something I firmly did not want, but I would need some serious ability to be able to change anything meaningfully in Brockton Bay, let alone the fate of the world.

I learned taekwondo, judo, boxing, and a dozen other martial arts. More than that, I learned how tournament opponents fought, and with my Sharingan lit behind my shades, I was able to deconstruct why and how certain moves were used.

I was starting to see why the Uchiha were so in love with their eyes. The Sharingan is a lot more than just reaction speed and copying. It's perfect visual processing, the ability to see something and instantly recognize what it was and how it impacted everything around it.

It was the ability to learn anything with a glance and to learn it permanently. It was the ability to see someone a mile off and be able to read their lips. How did I learn to read lips? I just watched people talk and mapped muscle movement to noise. With the Sharingan it was like adding two and two, it was just natural to visually deconstruct an action.

Sharingan Genjutsu was powerful, I could conjure illusions in anything whose eyes could see mine, and mine theirs. Direct eye contact allowed the Genjutsu to anchor even deeper. Unfortunately, my illusions were amateurish and my control over the other abilities was substandard at best. I could only practice on the local wildlife for fear of bringing down the Master/Stranger protocols, but it was better than no practice.

Genjutsu was fun, though, and allowed me to craft bizarre and personally amusing situations and force birds to witness them. Using it too often or too complexly was an easy way to end up with a sore pair of eyes, though.

I used the Sharingan for a lot more, though. I integrated it into my daily life. I watched the ways people walked and emoted, copying my favorite expressions and actions for future use.

I learned how to throw knives, my accuracy wasn't incredible yet but I understood the motions perfectly. I bought a set of throwing knives and a target from the knife convention I went to learn from and was getting better by the day.

My hobby was learning. Every day I went out and learned something new. How to sneak around, how to make food, how to lift weights. I had invested in a home gym as well and began a running habit. The stronger I got the more prepared I was for a fight, and the stronger my chakra was.

When I wasn't learning or exercising, I was experimenting with chakra. I had exceptional control from the start, able to master the leaf-sticking technique with ease. I had even begun practicing with wall-walking, and sometimes just walked up the walls and hung from the ceiling to get something from a top shelf.

The only jutsu I had managed so far was the blowing-up-in-my-fucking-face jutsu. I didn't have any way of learning hand seals, so I simply placed my palms together and attempted to mold the chakra manually. The Sharingan once again contributed to my progress, the visual analysis of doing a certain action with my chakra slowly guided me into understanding what exactly I was doing. Learning how to henge didn't seem all that far off.

Other topics of intrigue included analyzing cape fights and stealth. I wasn't able to get particularly good data from recorded video, but I was still able to decipher strategies and begin building my mental database. There were surprisingly good stealth guides online.

I even learned to use the family katana. If there was one benefit of Earth Bet being hell on earth, it was that all forms of self-defense were widely practiced. Kendo tournaments were common enough, and I was even able to adapt a few other single-bladed techniques for use with the blade.


Before I knew it, a couple of months had passed. I knew Taylor had to have triggered by now, which meant the fight with Lung was on a countdown. There were very few dates I fully recalled, but Taylor's first night out was April 10th. That was the night I would begin demolishing canon. After that, I only had a few days to act if I wanted to keep Brockton Bay even slightly habitable.

First, I needed resources. Money was the big one. I needed a costume if I was going to be a respectable player of the game of capes, and I couldn't pull a Taylor and tailor myself a costume. Parian is the best bet, but that means I need money. I probably have enough for a simple costume, but I don't want to start dumping money without any income.

Income is a fancy way of saying 'loot.'

And I had the solution. I finally managed to henge, the transformation technique now adding a weak Changer technique to my set. The sheer variety of powers I possessed already made me vaguely dangerous if I could catch people by surprise. At this point, I'm a low Mover from enhancing my speed with Chakra and wall walking, a moderate Thinker from Sharingan visual enhancement, a moderate Master and faux-Shaker from Sharingan Genjutsu, a low Changer with transformation technique, and another Stranger from precognition blocking.

The real joy of capes being marketable is that cape fights are easy to track. Armsmaster was my favorite to watch. He may be a disappointment as an individual, but he's a delight to watch and copy in combat. Every action made was purposeful and precise, engineered for efficiency. I made sure to pay particular attention to his feet.

His footwork, that is. I could feel my brain nutting at the skills I got from it. There was no way I wasn't integrating it into my combat style. Finally, Armsmaster would do something worthwhile with his life: making me more dangerous.

Going to cape fights in person also taught me a bit more about my eyes. Most humans didn't have anything resembling chakra coils. Parahumans, however, did have something my Chakra sight could see.

Every parahuman had an active corona gemma, the connection to their powers, and that was the easiest thing to see. Depending on the manifestation, those pathways changed. Tinkers, like Armsmaster, had impossibly complex brain networks, likely supplying them with the needed knowledge and fueling their tinker fugues.

Glory Girl had energy pathways all over her body, which manifested as a layer of something reminiscent of shattered glass melted into a single piece. Panacea had a larger concentration of energy in her brain than a brute like her sister that then spread out through her body like veins. I couldn't fully deconstruct the powersets of parahumans at a glance without my prior knowledge, but it gives me a nice warning that they're doing something.

Once I caught Armsmaster looking at me when I was a crow. I cawed as loudly as I could at him. You can get away with a lot of bullshit as a crow, they're very intelligent animals. It was also a great cover for stealing french fries. Flying was very fun.

The big benefit was scouting. I held a grudge against the Empire, with them having shot my cat and all, so they're my first target. It was as easy as flying around until I found a cape, in this case, Alabaster, and I followed him to a drug distro. It was a two-story building. The top floor seemed to be some sort of office, and the bottom floor was a garage dedicated to freighting illicit substances.

Coke, weed, LSD, shrooms, and heroin flowed like water there. Not to mention whatever else I couldn't identify on sight. My internal drug database wasn't spot-on. More importantly, a hell of a lot of money was gathered there.

Alabaster eventually left. The den was left in the care of about a half dozen E88 members for the night. The distro was deep in Empire territory, so they had no reason to over-guard the place and draw unneeded attention. Their mistake.

I slipped in through an open window on the second floor, flying through it as a crow. An Empire member in a suit had his back facing me, working at a desk with papers, likely keeping track of the quantity of drugs and money going through the facility.

I dispelled my crow transformation. I was in a hoodie and sweats, with a strip of cloth tied around the bottom half of my face as a mask. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than going in civvies.

My Sharingan turned on, and I confirmed my suspicions about his record-keeping. I silently crept behind him, until I was just behind his chair. I struck like a snake, wrapping him in a chokehold. The man instantly started choking and gasping, clawing at my arms to try and break free. His flimsy human arms couldn't budge my chakra-enhanced strength.

He made a few last gasps and then fell unconscious. I saw the noticeable shift in what little life energy his body possessed, a sign that he wasn't faking his passed-out state. I took a moment to burn his face and body into my mind with the Sharingan, then changed into the man whose throat wasn't able to take my might.

I was free to explore the facility in disguise. I doubted I could pull off an accurate impression of an Empire Admin, so I would still have to be subtle.

There was one other man on the second floor, guarding the stairs up to the office. Presumably this guy's bodyguard. He was a big man, at least six-five. He gave me a respectful nod as I approached.

I passed by with a confident gait, the bodyguard more interested in sipping coffee than considering the possibility his boss had just been impersonated. Once I was within a foot of him, I acted.

I snapped my arm out and grabbed his head, my grip reinforced by the same chakra technique I use to walk on walls. His head was not leaving my hand without my express permission.

Not that he had the chance to try and escape. I slammed his skull back into the wall he leaned on. His coffee dropped from his hands as his head busted through the drywall, and he did not get back up again.

It wasn't a silent takedown, unfortunately. I heard a bit of movement downstairs, some chatting, and then two pairs of footsteps began climbing up the stairs. Two empire grunts had come to check on the noise, and they opened the door to an empty room.

The first thing they noticed was the hole in the wall. "When the hell did that get there?" grunted the grunt.

"I'm not sure," said the other, scratching his cheek. "I don't think it was there last time I was up here.

I watched as I clung to the ceiling, still transformed as their boss and carrying his bodyguard over my shoulder. I sucked in a quiet, but deep breath, and sprung to action.

I tossed the bodyguard's body at one of the gangsters, turning him into a bodyassault. I fell on the other, a punch to the back of the head sending him reeling to the floor, and my follow-up strike knocked him out cold.

The man clubbed by the mountain of a man struggled to get out from under his fellow Empire hire, and wasn't very successful. A sharp kick to his nose produced a nice cracking noise and a nazi stopped struggling.

I sauntered out the door, my feet tapping on a metal platform overlooking the garage, with stairs extending down for access to the facility. I looked down into the garage and there was only one man who peered at me in confusion.

"Boss?" He inquired. "Where's Bill and Ted?"

I threw myself over the ledge, falling onto him. His eyes widened just before my foot stomped down on his forehead, sending him sprawling. He wasn't unconscious yet, so I grabbed him by the collar and threw him into a wall. The noise of impact sounded like at least a few broken bones.

Suddenly, I had a warehouse to myself. Well, for now. I had until more people showed up or any of the people I beat woke back up.

Not wasting time, I started gathering drugs and money. The drugs were all tossed into a pile with the exception of a few pounds of weed I chose to… liberate. That was stuffed into one of the two duffle bags I filled with money. The bills were nicely organized by worth, allowing prioritization of stuffing money in the bag.

I finished in about 5 minutes, abusing my chakra enhancements to speed up the process. I filched a few grenades from the small ammo cache, along with a glock and a few hundred rounds. I didn't plan to use it, but it's nice to have a backup. I secured my bags, retrieved the grenades, and pulled the pins.

I tossed the explosives into the drug pile, changed into a crow, and flew away. I got a nice glimpse in my peripheral of the pile exploding, ruining countless amounts of drugs. Look at me, I'm a hero.


A hero who is forty-five thousand dollars richer. God damn, what a payday.

I hadn't been counting the money when I grabbed it, but that's what it came out to be in the end. More than enough to buy a nice costume from Parian. Unfortunately, also more than enough to put a target on my head.

I wasn't too worried, though. They didn't have my real identity, and I haven't even made a cape identity yet. They don't even know who I am, which makes things a lot easier.

That didn't stop them from making a fuss about it. There weren't any specific details given, but the Empire did make a call-out demanding retribution for an attack.

PHO had more details, and I had taken to browsing it to keep in touch with the current situation in Brockton. Naturally, the first person to provide any accurate information was Bagrat, explaining that the unrest in the E88 was due to a raided drug distribution center.

All-Seeing-Eye had taken the time to investigate the situation as well. She was not the first person to suggest a new cape, but she was the first to be taken seriously. She even correctly guessed I had used a Stranger power. Adds some bonus points to my 'Lisa' theory.

Thinkers are a little scary. I'll have to limit my interactions with her, if I can. I enjoy keeping my thoughts private.

The whole situation was immediately overshadowed by the Simurgh attacking Australia. What convenient timing for a new cape trying to stay under the radar to arrive! It's almost like I planned the whole thing out.

It didn't stop the Nazis from making a fuss, but it certainly took attention off of me.


Parahumans Online Private Messages

You are logged in: Akatsuki

Currently messaging: Parian (Verified Cape)

Akatsuki: I am looking to commission a costume. I have rough sketches, but would appreciate your assistance in making them more fashionable. I'm currently looking to throw about 10k into this.

Parian: Thank you for contacting me. Send over the design. 10k should cover any design and tailoring costs, unless you want something particularly exotic or complex.

Akatsuki: [AkatsukiCloak png]

Parian: Are you looking to keep it that… cylindrical? Costumes are typically best worn relatively tight.

Akatsuki: Feel free to alter the fit as you feel best. The color scheme and pattern are the main focus. My skillset lends itself to stealth and close-quarters combat, and having a healthy supply of pockets would be nice.

Parian: My recommendation would be to turn the cloak into something resembling a form-fitting high-collar trench coat. With black buttons on the black fabric, it could look seamlessly secured. Pockets would be easily implemented. If you want to keep the uniformity of the cloak, I could make the pockets nondescript enough to be unnoticed at a cursory glance.

Parian: For functionality, I recommend an underlying bodysuit that the coat can be secured too. Loose fabric makes noise, and securing it reduces that issue. Additionally, I could implement protective plates into this bodysuit without having to alter the design of the coat.

Akatsuki: That all sounds good.

Parian: Do you have any preferences on the other parts of the costume? I wouldn't recommend sandals like your sketch, and I assume you want some sort of mask.

Akatsuki: What would you recommend instead of sandals? And yes, I would like a mask. Preferably one that covers everything below my eyes.

Parian: Steel-toed boots. You don't want to leave your feet exposed in a fight, they're an easy target. It would run you a few thousand more. And the mask is easily done. Black cloth with red seams to match the coat would work well. I could make a set of matching gloves as well.

Akatsuki: I can afford it, do it.

Parian: I'll need to get your measurements. This project will take a week or if you want a more accurate fit after the fact, then we'll have to meet in person.

Akatsuki: I'll get you my sizes later today. Give me an address to meet at when it's complete, and I'll bring the money and get sized.

Parian: A pleasure doing business. If I have any more changes or suggestions, I'll message you. Once complete, I'll send the final bill and the location.


And just like that, my knockoff Akatsuki fit was being prepared. I needed a good name to go with it.

'Pain' was an aggressive name for a hero. But, I wasn't a normal hero. I toyed with the idea of using other Akatsuki members or even coming up with my own name, but I wasn't able to come up with anything as intense as Pain.

I was already stealing the Akatsuki outfit, I may as well steal the leader's name. It wasn't going to be the last time I stole their ideas, after all.

Pain of the Akatsuki was going to make a name in this shithole of a world, mark my words. Not yet, of course. Now was the time for training and planning. Eventually, it would be the time for action. When that time comes, I will be ready.