Chapter Thirteen: The blood of the innocent tastes good.
The cold night air hung heavy over the city as Mścisław Kowalczyk, Igor Grabowski, and Emánuel Kádár emerged from the shadows, their ominous presence casting an eerie pallor over the unsuspecting streets of Musutafu. Armed and resolute, they began their relentless descent into chaos.
Mścisław Kowalczyk, a Private without the gift of a Quirk, clutched his AK205 tightly, the metallic sheen reflecting the dim glow of streetlights. His breath mingled with the frigid air as he set his sights on the first unfortunate souls in their path.
Igor Grabowski, a Private armed with an AK-107 and endowed with the Quirk of Blackout, moved with calculated precision. As the trio advanced, the electronic heartbeat of the city quivered and fell silent in his wake. Streetlights flickered into darkness, plunging their surroundings into an unsettling obscurity.
Emánuel Kádár, his nails transformed into glistening steel, followed with a Beretta 92 at his side and a Benelli M1014 in hand. Each step echoed the ominous rhythm of their malevolent intent.
As the night unfurled, the trio left a trail of chaos in their wake. Innocent bystanders trembled in fear, their pleas drowned out by the cacophony of violence. The stark contrast between their mundane lives and the sudden onslaught of terror highlighted the vulnerability of the city.
The blood of the innocent became a twisted elixir, sating the insatiable hunger of Division Svyatoslav's mercenaries. Mścisław's AK205 barked, Igor's AK-107 discharged with ruthless efficiency, and Emánuel's steel nails found their mark, each strike leaving an indelible scar on the city's soul.
Within the shadows, Black Eagle observed the unfolding spectacle with a sinister satisfaction, reveling in the anguish he orchestrated. The air reeked of desperation, and as the night wore on, the trio's malevolent symphony continued, the city streets stained with the blood of those who had fallen victim to their merciless assault.
Black Eagle, perched on a rooftop overlooking the chaos, reminisced about the days when the National Crisis Committee (NCC) had a noble purpose — to protect the innocent of Japan. However, the Hero Public Safety Commission (HPSC) had seized control, tarnishing the organization's original intent. In response, Black Eagle, operating under the alias 'Klaus Krauss,' seized the reins of the NCC and redirected its mission toward a more sinister path.
As the trio from Division Svyatoslav unleashed their havoc on the streets of Musutafu, Black Eagle saw the seeds he had planted in the organization come to fruition. The NCC, once a symbol of hope, had become an instrument of terror. The streets, once bustling with life, were now marred by the cruelty of those meant to protect.
The smile that played on Black Eagle's tar-black lips mirrored the malevolence of his thoughts. The screams of innocent civilians fueled his satisfaction, proving that the NCC, under his influence, could bring forth the destruction he craved.
From his vantage point, Black Eagle reveled in the success of his manipulation. The very organization designed to safeguard the people had become an instrument of chaos, a reflection of the darkness within his own soul. The city below bore witness to the consequences of his machinations, and the once-honorable NCC had now metamorphosed into a butchery of the innocent.
As the night wore on, the cacophony of chaos orchestrated by Black Eagle and his pawns painted a gruesome tableau, a stark reminder of the villainy that had taken root within the heart of an organization that was once meant to protect the vulnerable.
The clock struck the designated deadline, and as the agreed-upon time arrived, the soldiers of Division Svyatoslav swiftly altered their course, vanishing into the labyrinth of alleyways that crisscrossed the city. Black Eagle, having reveled in the mayhem they had wrought, allowed the macabre spectacle to fade into the shadows.
With a lingering smile on his tar-black lips, Black Eagle relinquished control, and the consciousness of Izuku Midoriya emerged once again. As Izuku regained his senses, he found himself standing on the rooftop, the echoes of the nefarious deeds still resonating in the night air.
The transition from the puppeteer's control back to Izuku's own self was disorienting. The weight of the actions committed in his name pressed upon his conscience. The city below bore the scars of his involuntary participation in the chaos orchestrated by Black Eagle.
As the night enveloped Musutafu, Izuku grappled with the darkness that had taken residence within him. The remnants of Black Eagle's malevolence lingered, leaving Izuku to contemplate the path he now found himself treading. The battle for his soul continued, and the shadows whispered secrets that would shape the destiny of both the boy and the malevolent entity cohabiting within him.