Challenger

by Notsae

A deal with the devil, a power from beyond. Handed incredible power and given a command to use it, Izuku vows to surpass even All Might... even if his power corrupts the people around him, and fills his mind with blood and pain.

2. Chapter 2

Challenger 2

I shook off the bizarre feeling, glancing around the room to find mom already up and getting dressed. I spent a few moments simply watching her before she noticed, shaking her ass in my direction before turning to give me a smile, "Well honey, ready to face the day? Got any plans?" So saying, she bounced in place, very deliberately drawing attention to her massive bust as she did.

I didn't bother trying to hide my interest, watching her tits bounce with rapt attention as she giggled in amusement. "Mmm, much as I'd love to start the day with some morning fun~, I have a bad feeling I wouldn't be able to walk at work if we did."

I laughed, letting my head fall back to the bed. "Ah, that's fine mom, I have some plans for the day anyway." It was even true, there was a wide world of quirks out there for me to copy, and I already had a good idea where to start; while school was out for the week, many of the kids I knew from there often spent their free time in the park, the mall, or by the old beach for the less ostracized outcasts. While Katsuki had successfully intimidated and beaten any dreams of heroism out of everyone else at Aldera, many of them had decent quirks well worth taking nonetheless; Bakugou may have crushed their dreams, but I could be a hero in their place.

I intended to start jogging, hitting up popular hang out locations and public places in general looking for useful quirks. I also just flat out needed the exercise, Aldera's fitness standards had never been particularly high. A thought struck me, and I added looking into gyms and dojos to my list; it would be best to tour a number of them to get a shot at a bunch of potentially combat or strength oriented quirks, then pick the one with the best selection of useful quirks to actually go to. Though, I couldn't entirely dismiss the actual fighting styles and training methods either… Hmm, this whole hunt may be a little more complicated than expected.

Mom gave me a knowing smile, "Planning to train for the entrance exam, eh? Just don't get caught using your quirk by any cops or heroes then sweety." I wasn't surprised she didn't seem concerned by my intentions to openly violate the law, no one in my family had ever cared much for quirk regulations; hell, it was half the reason Hisashi moved to the states, the higher paying job he got also let him use his quirk frequently.

I didn't much like thinking about why a corporation's head of "information security" needed to use a fire quirk "frequently."

Mom finished getting dressed while I was turning that thought over in my head, grabbing my foot and giving it a shake to draw my attention. I chuckled, pushing myself up to a sitting position and giving her a boop on the nose with one finger, "All right, all right, I'm up." So saying, I put my words to action and forced myself to stand up from the warm comfort of the bed with only some mild groaning. I shook off the cloying fog of sleep from my limbs, gave mom a big hug and a squeeze on the ass, and shuffled my way to my room to get dressed.

I made sure to dress in comfortable but practical clothes, I didn't know for sure if my power would let me take what I was wearing in with me but there was no reason to not dress optimally just in case. I didn't have over much in the way of combat gear, but I did have plenty of clothes for sports and exercise from a legacy of an overly optimistic youth; while those sturdy running shoes, cargo shorts, and "sports" shirts had never gotten my quirkless ass off the bench in any sport I ever joined, now they would serve as more than adequate workout equipment.

Mom and I wound up heading out the door at the same time, waving as we made our separate ways at the entrance; her towards the nice car I'm moderately certain she didn't own yesterday, and me towards the park. I set to jogging at a steady pace just slightly above what felt comfortable to maintain, trying to eke a bit of exercise out on my way. Plans and hypotheticals danced through my mind as I jogged, but soon the sound of children playing and adults chatting reached my ears and pulled me back into the present.

The park was a familiar haunt for me, mostly because of Katsuki dragging me along with his band of thugs a great many times over the years. A faint smile spread across my face as I walked through the line of trees making up the bounds of the park, while my eyes roamed the sunny field and playground, easily finding a number of viable targets. A small part of me found that thought slightly off, a chattering piece of me advising that thinking of the happy families around me like animals to be hunted was probably unhealthy. I shook these thoughts off with a sigh, adding it to the pile of unhealthy things about my situation.

Over by a large fountain sat a small family, two of them familiar students from my own class and three more clearly older relatives; most of the older generation appeared much like strange, winged goblins seemingly made of a different element each. The father seemed to be made of magma and despite possessing wings stayed firmly on the ground, the mother had hair made from some form of steam and looked the most baseline human of the lot, and an older male I assumed was one of the two's father or brother seemed to be made of dense white dust. The kids seemed to shift between a solid human form and elemental form at will, though they only seemed to be able to shift one limb at a time.

Near the sandy swings a small band of shifty looking lads took turns throwing fistfuls of spit-packed sand balls at each other, some occasionally using their quirks to defend themselves, most notably a somehow already balding kid capable of coating his skin in stones at will. Another, a narrow-eyed brunette with a nasty grin, seemed to be able to conjure tiny pebbles into his hand at will, chucking fistfuls of the small rocks at his supposed friends with glee. The third and final member of their little entourage, an almost strangely generic looking sandy-brown haired, brown eyed boy with a faint smirk in his otherwise expressionless face slid around on trails of slick mud that seemed to form under his bare feet as he dodged the hail of stones.

My eyes swept back to the family of mephits, eventually deciding that, while I had very little chance of being able to take on the adults, my classmates were much easier targets; while their parents seemed to either be full blown mutants or just always kept their transformation active, the kids seem to need to actively will themselves to transform even partially. I have no means of harming an intangible foe, but if I can get the drop on the teens I might have a chance.

Of course, that was all presuming they were fully incorporeal, this would all be much easier if they had some sort of solid core; it would also make their powers less useful, which is a fundamental catch twenty two of my power that was easy to predict. Better powers are harder to get; obvious, perhaps, but still noteworthy.

There were two of said teens, a boy that was playing around turning his arms to smoke and a girl presently scaring squirrels by turning her eyes to flame in their sockets; the choice on which to target first was obvious to me, all the potential lung damage smoke can deal out was nothing compared to full blown fire.

To avoid looking like some sort of creep, I decided to head over to a lonely swingset on the edge of the park; few people used this one, mostly because there was a taller, higher quality one in the middle of the sand pit. Sitting down and beginning to swing by myself to have an excuse to be there, I locked my eyes on the smoke boy's lock.

Kemri Mephsonn

Aldera High Student 1/6

{ZONE}

I smiled slightly, whispering "Challenge," under my breath. The world faded away and I found myself sitting at my desk in a seemingly empty Aldera high. I glanced around the dark classroom, noting the half erased equations on the board right alongside the absence of any students. I stood carefully, making sure to not make any noise as I crept over to the window (I made a mental note to prioritize acquiring a stealth based quirk as soon as I found one); a strange sight met my eyes, both familiar and alien at once, that of the school grounds at night.

The barrier of the zone modifier was visible in the near distance, hugging the outer edge of the dark school grounds. My eyes scanned over the moonlit yard, finding the parking lot empty and no signs of life visible. I turned my gaze to the sky as I thought the situation over, finding the moon hanging in the black night sky like a glowing sliver of a smile.

I didn't like the look of this scenario, not one bit; still, it wasn't hard to get my head around what was going on. A familiar building twisted by the dark of night, (presumably) empty save for a target with the ability to turn to smoke; to call it a dangerous situation would be a vast understatement. I would need to hunt them down in the dark, and make sure I found them and not the other way around or they could easily fade into the shadows and disappear, allowing them to escape or take me by surprise and kill me at their leisure.

I wasn't expecting to win this one. I didn't know anything about how this guy's power worked, didn't have any even theoretical means to harm smoke, and had no enhancements to stealth or tracking. My only shot was to hope I could catch this kid unaware and get a decisive opening shot; if my first hit wasn't a kill shot, this was going to get ugly fast.

I swallowed a sigh, turning away from the window and beginning to quietly search the classroom for any sort of weapon. Based on my past experiences I wasn't worried about my target running away until they were alerted, so I took my time to thoroughly search each desk. Unfortunately, my search only turned up a handful of pencils and one metal ruler; I pocketed the pencils just in case and took the ruler in hand, wishing dearly I had something more effective.

Unfortunately, I knew exactly how effective hopes and wishes are.

I took a deep breath, settling my face into my best imitation of a confident smile (which I knew undoubtedly looked like All Might's, a decade of imitation doesn't just disappear overnight) and headed for the hall. The moment I eased the door open, I encountered a rather significant issue I didn't really have any way to account for; without the internal lighting, the interior of the building was practically pitch black outside the thin pool of moonlight pouring out from the door. I peered into the inky darkness from the doorway, trying in vain to make my eyes adjust to a total absence of light for a moment before giving it up with a sigh.

I nodded to myself, knowing I'd bitten off more than I could chew with this one; I didn't have a flashlight, a quick check showed my phone to be dead (though it was notable that I was in fact dressed how I was in real life, even if my real phone was decidedly not dead), and a quick flick of the lightswitch got no result, meaning I would have to find and kill someone who already blends into the darkness without any sort of light to reveal them. While I was still determined to at least try my best to get something out of this, I was already thinking of what kinds of quirks would allow me to possibly overcome this challenge next time. Perhaps that was somewhat defeatist of me, but I was long past the point of optimism in my life; living without a quirk with a psychopath like Katsuki as my only "friend" had more than prepared me for the harsh realities of life, like the simple fact that trying hard alone can't make up for natural advantages or bad circumstances.

I sighed, debating between walking blindly out into the dark or trying to lure my target to a more optimal arena. Were this not a zone mission, I may have just tried making a lot of noise and then ambushing the target when they came to investigate, but the Zone modifier adds the complication that the target may try to run away instead of charging recklessly towards danger. However, that could still be a useful reaction; if the target flees in a predictable manner, I can use that knowledge to ambush them in the future.

I frowned into the dark, glaring out into the pitch black hallway and envisioning exactly how poorly this could go. Did I really want to stumble blindly through the school until an unseen and untouchable assailant comes to viciously murder me, probably via suffocation? Not really. With the tools available to me, I would have to either get incredibly lucky or memorize the school's layout such that I can navigate it blind, find the target without getting detected that whole time, and then either kill them in my opening strike without a decent weapon or prevent a living cloud of smoke from suffocating me or escaping.

I had little confidence in pulling off such a stunt, and even less desire to learn what suffocating to death on smoke feels like.

With no better ideas, I turned back into the room, picked up the nearest empty desk with a grunt of exertion, and hurled it out the closest window. The heavy metal frame slammed through the thin transparent barrier like it wasn't even there, falling to the distant earth in a shower of glass and hitting the concrete below with a thunderous crash. I waited patiently, listening to the trailing shards of glass shattering below as my eyes roamed the parking lot; it was possible Kemri would try to slip out the back, but unless he could fly (or jump ten feet, neither of which I was sure he couldn't do, but even if it turned out he can that would still teach me something) the wall around the school grounds would force him to round the building and leave out the front gate.

It was a known safety issue, having only one exit had historically gotten many people killed in case of fire or similar disaster, but today I was glad for my local government's complete and total indifference to the lives of Aldera's students and staff.

Movement drew my eye, snapping my gaze over to the right as my classmate sprinted out from around the corner and darted towards the front gate. A grin spread across my face even though I had no ranged weapon to take advantage of this situation; now I knew which way he ran when disturbed, meaning next time I could use that knowledge to prepare an ambush. I watched him run, not even making the futile gesture of attempting to throw pencils at him from this distance; I could try and throw myself out the window to reach him, but even if I did win that gamble intact enough to move, I knew I wouldn't be able to catch up (let alone win the subsequent fight) anyway.

Besides, this was also an opportunity to learn exactly what happens when a zone target escapes.

That was a mindset I would need to get into, playing into the long game to win the war eventually, even if I lose the immediate battle. The nature of my power favoured gathering information and refining my approach over multiple runs rather than trying to brute force a solution with insufficient resources and data. The blunt and direct approach did absolutely have its place, but I can't rely on it every time and especially not in real life.

So, rather than make an ultimately doomed attempt to catch up, I waited by the window and watched my target escape. Try as I might to remain calm, my heart rate spiked the moment they reached the barrier nonetheless; my anxiety was certainly not helped when a wave of red washed across the whole dome from the point of contact, sweeping out until every single hexagon was bright crimson, even the ones that normally weren't visible. A moment later, the wind seemed to pick up and a faint, shrill note of a siren rang out in the distance, slowly growing louder with each thunderous beat of my heart.

Even knowing I wouldn't suffer any permanent, real world consequences, the entire situation was still intensely ominous; my heart pounded in my chest even as no immediate threat presented itself. For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen; it was almost enough to trick me into relaxing, but the crimson-stained light of the stars above kept my adrenaline flowing. After roughly fifteen seconds I noticed vague signs of movement beyond the now only slightly transparent barrier of the zone. I leaned forward, brushing away the remaining shards of glass in the windowsill with my ruler so I could safely lean out the window to squint at the strange occurrence.

It only took me a few more seconds to realize what I was seeing, one sign of movement quickly joined by another and another until a veritable sea of crimson tinted silhouettes poured out into the streets; it was people, thousands and thousands of different people sprinting in my direction with almost palpably murderous intent. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as the writhing mass of humanity breached the barrier and flowed across the school grounds like a tidal wave of flesh. Each individual was different, unique, as if my power had spawned in every single man, woman, and child in the city, possibly the whole country, and sent them raging my way.

They didn't seem to care at all for each other, or even their own safety, the strong and fast running right over the weak and slow with the sheer temerity to be in their path. My eyes flickered across the tidal wave of humanity heading towards me, distantly noting the mechanical way they all seemed to run and the exactly identical expressions on the faces close enough to make out as they closed on the building; given the sheer mass of people, it wouldn't surprise me if my power had decided to simply give them all the same base programming rather than bother with some unnecessary pretense of a personality. They were more like murderous robots than people, flesh automatons given a singular purpose and driven to complete it by any means available to them.

Well, that was my assumption at least, I didn't exactly have a means of confirming it either way; it's not like I could sit down and interview the hoard of silently marching killers to know for sure, really.

I figured at this point I had just about gained all the usable data I was going to get, and I wasn't exactly eager to learn how the veritable army my power sent my way would go about killing me. With that thought in mind, I climbed up into the windowsill; normally I was firmly against suicide -if only to spite the many people who had told me to commit it in so many words- but under the circumstances I preferred to go out on my own terms rather than face the wrath of the horde. I took a deep breath, turning my eyes from the encroaching legion and up to the distant moon behind the crimson ceiling of the zone marker as I drew the pencils from my pocket.

It was a strangely beautiful sight, even knowing it was an imitation; then again, I suppose I'd never much considered a picture to be less beautiful than its subject. My power had replicated the night sky perfectly, thousands of stars I could never normally see beyond the veil of light pollution twinkling even through the red dome between us. Staring up at the cold ball of illusory rock, basking in the red shifted reflected sunlight it bathed the night in, I could almost ignore the increasingly loud thunder of shoes on pavement for a moment.

But only for a moment, if I took too long the horde might break my fall.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, held my fistful of pencils to my forehead point first, and leapt head first out the window. Aldera high was not a very tall building, only three stories at its highest point and I wasn't even on the roof; my journey down to the earth did not take long, even though in that moment, with the wind of my passing whipping through my ears, it felt like a fragment of eternity. I didn't actually feel it when I hit the ground, the impact driving the pencils in my hand through my skull on contact and killing me instantly; a quick and painless death, just as I'd intended.

FAILURE

Hint: ZONE challenges are often well-defended locations that require planning to break into, alerting your enemies too early can swiftly lead to you being overwhelmed. Plan your attack to make your first strike as decisive as possible, or try to take down as many enemies as you can before they raise the alarm. Keep in mind some ZONE missions will allow targets to evacuate if they reach certain vehicles, exits, or capes. If the target successfully extracts, increasingly powerful enemies will start to spawn and the following modifiers will be applied to all NPC units: {BRZK} {LUST} {FOCS} {CTRL} {ALRT} {HUNT}

I took a deep breath, just managing to keep from face planting into the dirt as reality faded back in with me halfway through the swing's arc. I scanned over the hint, noting it wasn't tailored specifically for the challenge I just failed but instead contained a generic message about the challenge type; though I wasn't quite sure where the term "cape" came from, it wasn't hard to guess what it meant. Still, it was useful information, even if I already knew most of it there was still some valuable new data; for instance, I hadn't seen even half the modifiers that would apparently be applied to everyone once the target escapes, and while I was fairly certain none of them were any good for my health, knowing about their existence before hand can help me prepare for facing them in the future.

I released my breath in a long sigh, glancing at Kemri's new timer before looking for other targets; it was only half an hour, but without some other powers under my belt I'd be stuck in the same bad situation with no new solutions save banging my head on the wall until it breaks. My eyes slid over to the fiery sister, deciding to save challenging the older generation for last. While I considered my odds of beating her in a straight fight even worse than her brother, I still wanted to get an idea of what I would be up against.

Hinoko Mephsonn

Aldera High Student 1/8

{REAL}

I frowned, it seemed almost too simple but I decided to push ahead anyway. I whispered, "Challenge," at the top of my arc, watching the world dissolve into green fractals just as gravity took hold of me; I knew that would be disorienting once I came back out of this challenge, but it was a necessary part of my cover. As a plus side, it would help me get used to using my power in dynamic situations; face planting in the sand today could prevent me from getting shot in the face tomorrow, after all.

The world faded into a familiar scene, sunlight pouring down on me as I stood just outside Aldera High's gates. Students flowed this way and that, most streaming into the building but more than a few going off on their own way; for a moment I freaked out and nearly jumped into cover, before remembering this challenge didn't have the Gang modifier. These npcs were a potential obstacle but not an active threat, I can expect them to act like normal people and interfere with any blatant murder attempts (or run away screaming and maybe call the police in the more coherent cases, or stand around gormlessly filming if a couple thousand hours of crime scene footage was anything to go on) but not to randomly attack me unprovoked.

In this case, that didn't much matter; facing a fire shifter, I would either end the fight in the opening strike, or I'd be too busy burning to death to care much about the cops coming twenty minutes later.

Based on the apparent time and the movements of the students, it seemed to be the start of lunch; combined with the realism modifier active, that told me where my target most likely was or would be heading: the cafeteria. I took a deep breath, and started walking as calmly as I could towards one of the side doors; there was too big a risk of accidentally running into the target too early if I went through the front door. The few students I passed on my way made no comment, save for the usual snide chuckles at the miserable joke that is my life anyway; fortunately, none of them screamed or attempted to stop me, simply carrying on with whatever business they think they have, if they think at all.

Pondering the mental state of inherently temporary npcs sent a cold feeling down my spine, encouraging me to set the thought aside to come back to never and focus on the moment instead.

I had spent seven years in this school, and thus I knew the layout fairly well; not well enough to navigate it in the dark, but more than well enough to know how to get to the kitchen from the loading bay. Admittedly, that was only because Katsuki had shanghaied me into helping him steal sackfuls of desserts on several occasions, but the ill gotten knowledge was still useful. The back of the school had a loading bay for trucks, allowing any shipments of food or other supplies to be directly unloaded into the storage area behind the kitchen. The actual back door, rusty mesh of scrap that it was, had an automatic lock; fortunately for me, as with the many times Katsuki and I raided the place, the loading bay itself was left open. Just like every previous time, accessing the storage rooms was as easy as crawling over the waist high landing platform and strolling inside.

It was lunch time, meaning the lunch ladies were in the main kitchen area that connects to the actual cafeteria, busy shoveling whatever food-like slop the school was serving today. Conveniently, this meant none of them would be paying over much attention to the storage and actual kitchen part of their little fiefdom. This made it easy to slip inside the always propped open kitchen door, sneak behind the distracted servers passing plates of what might charitably be called food to students, and snatch a decent sized knife for myself.

Of course, that left me holding an almost foot long blade in a restricted area, considering how to get into the student section of the cafeteria without getting caught up in a commotion that could alert my target. I could have gone back out the way I came, facing the difficulties of sneaking around the entire school with a weapon on my person, but ultimately I decided to lean on the expedient side of valour; besides, speed can be a vitally important aspect of stealth in and of itself. Wasting not a second more, I sprinted for the staff entrance to the cafeteria, pushing the door open with one hand and tucking my blade into my sleeve with the other.

I moved quickly, scanning the room as I just barely kept myself from outright sprinting around the counter. My swiveling eyes quickly found my target, sitting at a table with a gaggle of other relatively popular girls; fortunately, she was facing away from the counter (notably, she was facing towards the main door) and was thoroughly engaged in some animated but audibly vapid conversation, and made no note of my arrival. One of the lunch ladies spotted me coming from behind, opened their mouth to call me on it, then simply sighed and went back to serving the drooling brats waiting in line; it was nice, in a twisted sort of way, to actually benefit from institutional apathy for once, rather than being victimized by it.

With my target's back to me, distracted by talking with her friends, it was easy to power walk across the cafeteria without being noticed; I simply held my knife such that the blade was hidden up my sleeve, and held a hastily stolen juicebox in the other hand to look like I had a reason for being here. Her friends noticed my approach as I drew near, signaling to Hinoko to turn around; unfortunately for her, their warnings came too late.

Abandoning stealth, I lunged forward just as the girl began to turn, dropping my juice to take my knife in both hands and plunge it down into the top of her skull. The strength of my arms proved sufficient to spear through her bones, ramming the blade all the way down to the hilt in her brain. Screams rang out all around us as she twitched, half turned in her seat as her brain functions were suddenly interrupted by a two inch wide slab of cold steel sliding between her neurons. Body wide spasms overtook her as I twisted the knife as best I could, different pieces of her fading back and forth between fire and flesh as reality began fracturing apart around me and death finally caught up with her.

SUCCESS

REWARD: Fire Form (1)

I took a deep breath as reality faded back in, a sense of falling disrupting my celebration at the feeling of a fiery new brick forming in my mind; a half second of panicked confusion overtook me before I remembered where I was, tilting my torso to the rhythm of the swingset. After (barely) managing to successfully prevent myself from flying off and slamming face first into the sand, my mind went over the challenge I'd just won; while a self sabotaging part of me thought it was almost too easy for such a power, I chalked it up to familiarity with the environment, and more than a little bit of luck. If I didn't know there was a back entrance I'd have been stuck going through the front door, which would have led to me being detected the moment I entered the lunch room.

That would have been a disaster; unarmed and without the element of surprise, I had zero faith in my present ability to fight a fire shifter like Hinoko. That wasn't even mentioning whether or not the other students and staff would try to help her, potentially making an already bad situation vastly worse.

I shook off the thought, my gaze turning to the adults. I wasn't so reckless as to allow a very circumstantial victory to embolden me too much, but the logic registered that if I challenged them early I would possibly have another shot before I left. I could challenge Hinoko again right away, but even if I succeed on the second challenge it wouldn't increase my odds of beating anyone else. I would definitely go for her second challenge before I left but for now I wanted to prioritize getting more powers for increased versatility before spending time to strengthen my existing powers, if only for the simple reasoning that a broader toolset opens more doors than one really good hammer.

My eyes flickered to the gremlin-like oldest male, evaluating him as the most experienced and thus likely the most dangerous.

Memphry Mephsonn

Surly Old Man 1/12

{ZONE} {HUNT}

I frowned, getting a bad feeling from his higher amount of challenges but pushing forth nonetheless. "Challenge," I whispered, and the world broke apart and faded away once more. Shards of reality coalesced into the image of… a dark warehouse, by the look of it. I glanced around, sheet metal walls and cracked concrete floors revealed by flickering fluorescent lights overhead. I was sitting on a cheap metal folding chair, next to a plastic fold out table covered in a haphazard pile of white powder that resembled what made up the old man's form.

I couldn't tell what the substance was, it didn't really smell like flower or salt but at the same time it didn't quite match any depiction of cocaine I'd ever seen. Then again, I wasn't an expert in mysterious white powders, for all I knew it could be anthrax…

I really hoped it wasn't anthrax.

I didn't dare touch the piled powder, not wishing to discover if the target could sense such a disturbance from afar even if the stuff wasn't toxic; I doubted it, but not enough to take such a risk no matter how unlikely I thought it was. My first move, before doing anything else, was to test my new powers. Sitting in place and closing my eyes, I drew upon the shiny new crystal brick in my mind, feeling warmth pour out of it as it slotted into place at the forefront of the back of my mind. I drew that warmth forward, calling it forth and willing it to do its work.

I took a few seconds to get a grip on the feeling before the heat overtook me, enveloping my whole body as the sound of roaring flames filled my ears. The sound faded into faint background noise as I opened my eyes, noticing first that everything I looked upon seemed to be brightly lit all of a sudden. A single downward glance showed what had happened; my entire body had become flame. I stared at the fiery silhouette of my form, taking in the details of my transformation as I raised my hands, noting I could still make out the vague shape of my clothes and even nails despite being made up of homogenous flame.

And then, just as quickly as it overtook me, the warmth within ran out and my transformation sputtered and died; the flames making up my body faded back into flesh, leaving me with only a faint feeling of emptiness inside before the red hot power within the mental crystal began to build back up.

That was… exhilarating. I hadn't even really used my newly gained power for anything, but just the feeling of even having such a power at all made my heart soar. It was different than gaining mom's power, more… real, in some way. This was power, real power, the kind of power that heroes are made of. Sure it was rather meager now -I hadn't counted in my excitement but I was fairly sure I had only maintained my transformation for a handful of seconds- but with further challenges (and maybe training, I didn't know if my stol- copied quirks could get stronger with use), this was the kind of thing that could take someone to the big leagues all on it's own.

And I had no intention of relying on only one good quirk, when I could have all of them.

Something about that thought twinged a red thread in my mind, but I shook the odd feeling off and focused on spending my time as best I could. Past experience had taught me that things generally get worse with time, and I had the strange feeling my power didn't much like me lingering without actively working towards killing the target; however, considering the ease with which this target remained in his transformed form in reality (unless his quirk was inverted, and his base state was his dusty gremlin form rather than a human one), I knew I would need far more training to have a hope of actually winning this fight.

I didn't count how many minutes I spent trying to figure out the specifics of my new power, but it didn't take long to get a functional understanding. Upon activation, my entire body (and clothes) would dissolve into fire for five seconds before going into a cooldown state for ten seconds; all attempts at partial transformation met with no result. My preliminary tests showed very little flexibility on those numbers, with effort and focus I could shift the timer about a second in either direction; not a particularly wondrous range, but any flexibility was better than none. Long hours of once hopeful research had taught me quirks can grow and change in response to frequent and specific use; while that had never amounted to the "hidden quirk" my child self had dreamt about, it did teach me quite a bit about some of the more obscure mechanics of quirked biology.

With nothing left that I could learn while sitting down, I stood up as quietly as I could, taking care not to scrape the metal feet of the chair across the rough concrete floor as I did. The sheet metal walls had only one point of egress, an equally thin and rusty metal door on the other side of the table. I gingerly stepped around the table, noting and carefully avoiding errant piles of powder; the scattered particulates seemed randomly sprinkled all about, grains of powder in small piles all over the room. Avoiding touching the granules felt wise, even if I didn't actually have any evidence suggesting it was dangerous. It took a little extra effort to step around the randomly scattered sprinkles and small piles, but I felt the inconvenience was worth it even if only for peace of mind.

The moment I opened the door, my paranoia was vindicated; a terribly loud screech of poorly fitting hinges rang out as the rusty door swung open, and I could feel the base grinding against something. A glance at the floor showed a line of powder, now disturbed by the door's movement; a second later, a glowing hot crystal spike punched through the back of my throat. I barely had time to widen my eyes before a dozen more such spikes tore me apart, steaming gore splattering into the hall even as reality crumbled away.

FAILURE

Hint: The HUNT modifier grants the target unerring knowledge of your location after they become aware of your presence. Try to avoid detection for as long as possible if you aren't confident you can win a straight fight. Alternatively, you can use this alert status to lead the enemy into traps.

I groaned as reality faded back in, shuddering bodily as I tried to shake off the phantom feeling of burning rods shearing through and caramelizing my innards. That… that had gone very poorly, very quickly. I hadn't really gone in expecting an easy victory, let alone any victory, but to be killed so quickly and brutally for a mistake I couldn't have possibly known I was making…

Well, it reminds me a bit too much of the disaster footage I'd seen, of people who didn't know they were in danger paying for their ignorance with their lives.

Regardless of the paranoia bubbling up in my guts, dying so quickly without even directly facing the old man told me I was a long way off from being a hero. If that was a real situation, and I actually needed to escape or infiltrate such a facility, I'd be very dead and my mission very failed. It was also a soft vindication of my desire to prioritize expanding my toolbox before I strengthen individual powers; the additional power I'd gained could definitely help me dodge attacks like the one that killed me (presuming I see it coming) and even offered a path to slip through the gap between the door and frame without disturbing the dust (maybe, I wasn't actually certain how much I could alter my form while shifted), validating that more powers offer more solutions. With a broad enough power set, I'd have a counter to every problem I could potentially face.

Of course, thinking further, that's a rather long way off. Just off the top of my head I can think of a couple dozen generalized categories I'd need to fill, and each one would present their own unique difficulties in acquiring. Rather than let that thought weigh me down, I sighed through a smile; no one ever said being a hero was easy, I never expected becoming one to be either. I wasn't about to let my only chance to achieve my dreams fall by the wayside because it was a bit too hard.

Resolute in my path, I swept my gaze over to the mother and father. Of the two, the mother definitely seemed like the lesser threat; while everyone else displayed full fledged transformations, her only visible quirk was her hair. Whether that was due to lacking the ability or the desire to fully transform I didn't know, but either option would provide me with a better shot than trying to fight a man made of magma.

Maria Mephsonn

Jaded Housewife 1/8

{WRLD}

I hummed quietly to myself, briefly trying to guess at what I might be facing before accepting the challenge in a whisper. Once more, the park dissolved around me and I found myself standing on a sidewalk, dressed in the same clothes as I went to the park in and staring at a large house across the street. The noonday sun beat down on me as I glanced around, noting a car driving away in the middle distance to my left while a small family slowly walked towards me from the right.

That last detail could make things a bit more difficult. With the Real modifier, I could guess that "civilian" NPCs would likely respond to blatantly criminal behavior as they would in life. I had no time limit, but if I had to break into a house in the middle of the day I could easily bet on police and possibly even hero involvement if I was too loud or too visible.

Before making any overt moves to kick off my new and hopefully short lived career in home invasion, I simple leaned back to stare vaguely at the sky with a faint smile to give at least a loose excuse for why I was standing in place before pulling my phone from my pocket and pretending to scroll something; while my face turned away, my eyes swept across the house, tracing the white-painted brick wall around the property line back to the iron gate as the young couple and their child slowly got closer.

They were both young, early twenties at the latest; older than me, but somewhat young for having a toddler toddling in their footsteps. They were no one I recognized, and didn't carry themselves like any combatants I'd seen in my thousands of hours of watching definitely legally acquired crime scene footage; that didn't guarantee they weren't a threat, but it did tell me they weren't accustomed to violence.

Something that, in hindsight, I should have picked up about the old man; thinking back on it, he carried himself like a veteran, like some of the more jaded heroes (and even the rare villain that got old) I'd seen, like someone familiar with being suddenly endangered on a seemingly normal day.

I returned their curious glances with a smile and a nod as they passed me, but pointedly didn't pay them over much attention. I didn't visibly so much as glance towards them (though my eyes kept track) until the road curved enough to put a large tree between us. As soon as line of sight was broken (and a glance around showed no further eyes on me), I darted across the street.

Their fence was tall, not so much that I didn't think I could reach the lip with a jump, but tall enough to keep all but the well equipped or very determined intruders out. Fortunately for me, while their iron gate was very tall and intimidatingly patterned, it was made of iron bars and thus full of gaps. For any normal person this wouldn't really matter, even for the me of five real life minutes ago it wouldn't matter, but with my latest victory came a solution.

I didn't break stride, pulling the red brick to the forefront and feeling its warm power settle in an instant before my pace set me up to slam full force into the gate. Rather than embed the flowing, vaguely eye shaped pattern of the gate into my broken nose, I activated my new power and dissolved into flames an instant before I made contact. My fiery form flowed through the gaps effortlessly, allowing me access to the yard.

I was immediately very glad they had a wide driveway as the few plants growing through cracks in the tar along my path were incinerated by my passing. I barely made it a quarter of the way to the door before the flames making up my body faded back into flesh. That was for the best, in my opinion; while setting the building on fire was a viable option, it was guaranteed to draw attention quickly and wasn't a sure fire way to kill the target.

Especially not one with a water power, even if not in its liquid form.

Halfway up the driveway, the second major obstacle to my invasion came into view; a man in a dark suit, sleeping in a chair tucked into a shadowy corner of the porch. On its own, a man sleeping on the front deck was hardly a huge concern; the suppressed MAC-10 sitting openly on the shadow-covered man's lap changed that assessment the moment I saw it. I turned on a dime, ducking behind a large black minivan.

Peeking over the rim of the hood, I verified the apparent armed guard (and didn't that raise a whole lot of questions, given the "real" modifier) was actually asleep and then searched the surrounding area for any additional guards or cameras (not that the later really mattered as I wouldn't be leaving footage behind, but if someone was actively watching them they could be a problem). Finding nothing suspicious, I carefully, slowly, stood up; when no sirens blared and nothing ventilated my skull, I crouch-ran to the corner beside the stairway leading to the deck.

At such close range, I could see the guards slack, sleeping face under the shadow of the awning. It was no one I recognized, including the known members of the family this house probably belonged to; leading me to the conclusion this man was a dedicated guard employed by said family, and given the illegal firearm sitting on his lap, I suddenly had many more questions about these people.

While I knew it was technically possible to get a permit for firearms like the one I was staring at, that would honestly only open up even more questions. Given the "real" modifier, I could assume this guy wasn't just added by my power to make things more difficult; meaning this family has an armed guard sitting outside their door, openly carrying a (probably) illegal weapon in broad daylight.

Being decidedly not presently a professional hero, and also not being able to legally prove any of this with only (unregistered) quirk-granted information, I couldn't really do anything with this information, but I did make a mental note of it.

Confident the guard was sleeping, but markedly less confident they would continue doing so for long, I quickly but quietly crept up the short stairway, carefully placing each step to try to minimize noise. The first creak had me freeze solid, eyes locked on the guard's face, searching for any sign of sudden wakefulness; a few seconds passed with only an unintelligible grunt, and I resumed my progress.

The moment I summited the stairs, I reached out and gently snagged the gun off the man's lap. The sleeping sentry snorted, starting slightly in his sleep and scratching at his thigh before settling down. I looked over the silenced machine pistol, not knowing enough about firearms to tell much about its state beyond that it wasn't visibly rusted or bent. Without pulling the trigger, that was about all I could estimate about it.

I turned, moving to check the door before pausing with my hand hovering over the handle. My eyes slowly crept across the deck, settling on the slumbering guard's peaceful face; my thoughts raced behind my suddenly stormy eyes, considering the most likely outcomes of leaving him to sleep out here. If I make too much noise or fail to kill the target right away, this guy could be a serious problem.

Slowly, hesitantly, I leveled the barrel of my newly stolen gun with his head. It felt… wrong to murder a sleeping man like this, even if I knew he wasn't a real person; especially when he had done me no wrong, made no mistake but being at the wrong place with the wrong purpose. Nonetheless, I simply couldn't afford to have an enemy at my back; killing him made me uncomfortable, but sparing him could only have a negative result. I took a deep, slightly shuddering breath to steady myself, consoled myself with the knowledge that it wasn't real, and slowly pulled the trigger.

I learned then that silencers were very poorly named, downright false advertising in fact. While still notably more quiet than an unsuppressed shot, the sharp crack of the supersonic round traveling through the air was still very much loud enough to echo around the yard for a second. The tall walls likely had something to do with that, which might have helped prevent the sound from going too far into the neighborhood, but I couldn't be sure. I could only hope no one recognized or bothered to investigate the sound.

I grimaced as I watched the man slump over, his brains dripping down the window behind him. I didn't spend an extra second lingering around, very aware that I'd probably just fucked up any hope of a proper stealthy approach. A grimace stretched across my face as I spun on my heel, grabbing the door knob and twisting it with all my might; only to find it stuck fast, locked tight. My heart thundering in my ears, I didn't bother wasting time searching the area for a spare key that might not be there; enough time had passed for my fire form to recharge, allowing me to test one of my earlier theories.

Erupting into flames, I was glad to find my freshly fired gun swirling into flame along with me; in hindsight, that could have gone very badly, from as minor an irritation as simply dropping the gun to as catastrophic a failure as cooking off every round during the transition. With a mass of gun shaped flame attached to the end of one arm, I attempted to push through the crack between the door and the frame.

Sliding through such a narrow gap felt rather like sucking in my gut, though to an extremely exaggerated degree. By the time I managed to funnel my flaming mass through the narrow gap, both the door and frame were thoroughly charred and smoldering. Little flames slowly crawled along the burnt wood as my body shifted back into flesh and blood almost the very moment I managed to get all of myself through. Not the most subtle infiltration, but I was well past trying for subtlety at this point.

As flames slowly grew to engulf the door behind me, my eyes rapidly scanned the foyer and living room visible beyond it. Thankfully, there were no guards in sight; less fortunately, I couldn't see the target either. That left me with searching an unfamiliar building for a most likely already alerted hostile, who could be presently calling the cops (or potentially less legal reinforcements given the dearly departed doorman) or trying to escape through any number of exits that I didn't know about.

I took a deep breath, shaking off my concerns and setting a (somewhat shaky) smile on my face; that's just life, really, I can't expect to always have the advantage of mapping out an area beforehand. I'd just have to make the best of it, and thank Go- my power I could simply try again if I fail.

Grin fixed in place, I charged down the short hall, leading with my gun and my eyes on a swivel. A massive living room dominated the first floor, with a smaller but still impressively sized kitchen visible through one doorless frame. A quick check showed both to be empty, leaving me debating between a spiral stairway that clearly led upstairs and an unassuming door that led into a basement.

I was midway through an intense internal debate over which to check first, before a loud crash from above made the decision for me. I didn't waste a moment, snapping my gun up in the direction the sound came from and letting fly a burst of lead. The bullets tore through the wooden flooring with ease and the resultant feminine scream told me I was on target, but either hadn't hit them or hadn't lethally done so.

I didn't waste anymore of my limited ammunition, turning and sprinting up the stairs as quickly as I could. I took the stairs two at a time, gripping the corner with my free hand to pull myself up the last three and spin to face the direction the scream came from. I flew past family photos and an antique grandfather clock without a second glance, finding myself before the master bedroom's door much to my very little surprise.

Before even checking the handle, I leveled my machine pistol at chest height (angled slightly downwards incase they were crouched) and cracked off three quick shots into the door, and one to either side of it; Bakugo blasting a door straight into my face stuck with me, it's hard to forget the sensation of a woodchip scraping the back of your eye socket after all. My caution was rewarded with a pained scream, and the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground.

I kicked the door open, eyes and gun sweeping the room and almost immediately settling on the woman laying on her back to the left of the door. Blood seeped through her fingers around a gunshot wound in her side, her legs pushing ineffectually against the thick carpet in a futile attempt to get away. Her body was cloaked in a thin layer of steam flowing off her skin, the density rising greatly around her head to the point I could barely make out the hatred and terror in her bright blue eyes.

Her expression made me feel sick, seeing such hate and dread directed at me went against everything I believed in. I growled, shaking my head and leveling my gun with her chest even as her free hand flicked towards me. The mist swirling around her shot towards me, but not fast enough to stop me from squeezing the trigger, sending a hail of bullets to tear her torso apart. I held down the trigger 'till the world cracked apart around me, the echoing bangs still ringing in my ears.

SUCCESS

REWARD: Steam Hair (1)

I took a deep breath, clenching my hands around the thick cables connecting the swing's seat to the bar above. I shook the discomforting memory of those blazing eyes off -it wasn't real, it wasn't real!- and focused on the feeling of a new crystalline brick settling into my soul. It felt hot, not as hot as my fire form but definitely not safe to touch, swirling white where my fire was crackling orange.

I didn't dare try using it in reality, not with so many potential witnesses. Instead, I simply settled my gaze on the magma man; I didn't have any illusions on my odds of being able to successfully kill the man, but the attempt would likely give me time to learn about my new power.

Marcus Mephsonn

Family Man 1/10

{ALRT} {ZONE}

Alert, eh? That's worrying, without Hunt he won't have constant awareness of my location but losing the element of surprise is a serious handicap. Depending on the size of the zone, it may not be possible to evade his initial pursuit, and I don't have any powers that could give me a decent shot in a straight fight. This also would not give me a good opportunity to train my new quirk, but I still wanted to at least give it a shot. I frowned, anticipating an ugly death in the near future but steeling myself to face it nonetheless. "Challenge."

The world fractured into fractals once more, and dissolved into… pure darkness.

I blinked, once, twice, thrice, before accepting that my vision wasn't coming back. I couldn't see anything, just total blackness in all directions so all encompassing I couldn't see my finger touching my eyelashes. This… was not what I was expecting, not at all.

That didn't mean I had time to sit and think about it, however; my target knew I was here, they could be closing in on me or running away every second I sat here pondering my environment. Despite the urgency to get myself anywhere but here, I couldn't just run blindly into the dark; without any idea of the layout of this place, I was far more likely to hurt myself than make any real progress.

I hated to put my only defensive power on cooldown without a clear plan, but a quick search of my pockets showed I had no other light source; my phone was in my pocket, but it seemed to once more be dead for the purposes of the challenge. Presumably, if I had the appropriate power I might be able to recharge my phone and use it, but finding (let alone getting my hands on) such a power would take far longer than just getting a more consistent light producing or dark vision power (especially given I already knew where to get one of those).

Decision made and clock ticking, I erupted into flames, casting the darkness back with my radiance and revealing my environment. I must admit, I wasn't expecting to unveil the rough, uneven stone walls of a narrow cavern. The cold, grey walls looked like they had never been touched by light before, the maws of six tunnels surrounding me seeming to swallow up the illumination far too quickly. Each tunnel was just barely lit up enough for me to see them begin to curve off in one direction or another, though they could just as easily immediately veer off in any given way once out of sight.

I didn't have much time to contemplate my choices, my fire form dying out before I could do more than spin in place and count the exits. I was left once more blinking in the dark, trying to commit what little I had seen of the layout to memory as the inky darkness swallowed it all away.

It took me a few seconds too long to realize the cavern was getting warmer, even after my fiery transformation ended. That handful of seconds would prove my undoing, though I likely would have only bought myself a few more moments of agony if I had noticed sooner. I definitely noticed when the ground beneath my feet grew hot enough to feel through my shoes.

I started running blindly down the path ahead of me well before the ground began to steam, and faintly glow. It didn't help. The heat grew as the halls around me began to sag and glow, my skin reddening and stinging as the ambient temperature rose to decidedly uncomfortable levels. My skin began to burn, my hair denaturing and fizzling against my scalp shortly before the walls began to sag and the ceiling started sluggishly dripping.

In an attempt to keep my hair from bursting into flames, I called my swirling new power to the forefront. My hair, all across my body, dissolved into steam, swirling instinctively around my body. The swirling mist may have slightly insulated my body against the heat, but not nearly enough to matter.

It certainly didn't save me when the ground in front of me erupted into a molten spear, my own momentum driving me straight into it faster than I could react. Agony evaporated my thoughts as the burning pike incinerated my organs, piercing my lungs and burning my heart. Thankfully, a second spear from behind lanced through my skull, turning my brain to burnt jelly and shattering the world.

FAILURE

Hint: In Alert {ALRT} missions, the Target is aware of your presence and knows your initial location. You can use this to your advantage by setting traps or preparing an ambush, but you must act quickly.

I shook violently, nearly falling from the swingset from the phantom feeling of my brain burning and taking my thoughts with it. I… I think I'll hold off on challenging that one again for… a while. Worse even than the agony of my torso and skull being hollowed out by scouring heat, was the lingering idea that being impaled so swiftly was arguably a more merciful fate than just letting me burn from the raw ambient heat.

Body still shuddering slightly, I turned my gaze to the other small group of targets to get my mind off the feeling of neurons burning away even as they tried in vain to fire. The three boys throwing rocks at each other were starting to pack up, throwing lighthearted jeers at one another as they started going their own separate ways. Knowing my window of opportunity was rapidly dwindling, I focused on the one farthest away and challenged them with barely a glance at their name.

Alik Tokoname

Deadbeat Student 1/6

{BRZK} {CAGE}

The world fractured apart, reforming into the familiar plain white room my power seemed to favour for cage matches. My opponent -the kid sliding barefoot in mud earlier- wasted no time rushing at me with an outright rabid snarl of animal fury. There was nothing human in his eyes; utter, unthinking rage swallowing up all higher reasoning as he rushed me like a deranged ice skater, his quirk apparently affecting the white stone floor as easily as dirt. I wasn't sure if that was an alteration by my power to not completely neutralize his ability or if he actually could turn stone to mud like that.

He was surprisingly fast, closing the distance far quicker than I expected. Fortunately, he wasn't a very good fighter despite his speed, the psychotic rage causing his face to redden and his veins to bulge didn't seem to help his lacking tactical acumen either. He opened up with a haymaker he telegraphed from the word go, the blow simply plunging his whole body into the fires that replaced my flesh.

He didn't even seem to notice as his clothes ignited, nor did he show any sign of caring as his skin bubbled and blackened. He roared in fury, continuing to swing wildly at my insubstantial form even as it burned him more and more. I didn't sit idle, engulfing the mudslider with my burning body as much as I could while trying to stay mostly behind him so I wouldn't be torn apart the second my flames died.

The moment my timer ran out, I shifted to my new power with my fist already swinging for the back of Alik's head. The boy stumbled forward from the impact as the hair across my body dissolved into steam, before quickly catching himself and whirling around with a rabid scream of raw and inarticulate hatred. I threw myself backwards, dodging away from the barrage of uncoordinated but ferocious blows headed my way and trailing hot steam behind me.

My new power slotted in slightly differently, seeming to settle into my available slot but not fill it all the way; I didn't have time to consider the full implications of that slight difference, the feral teenager trying his very best to tear me apart and not giving me a moment's respite. My thoughts were consumed with simple survival, desperately dodging wild blows as best I could -taking more than a few glancing blows for my lack of training and limited experience- without the handicap of being intangible.

Alik didn't seem to notice or care that his clothes and hair were still burning, attacking with animal fury even as his flesh ran like wax. He seemed equally unaffected by the agony he must have been in, swinging his fists relentlessly despite what should have been debilitating injuries. I barely had a moment to figure out how to employ my new power, only the embers of instinctive understanding my power granted me allowed me to even try in between throwing myself away from a hailstorm of charred fists.

Fortunately that very same inhuman savagery behind each and every relentless attack, the same unthinking rage that allowed him to rain down blow after blow without pause, also made him predictable. The sheer pace of his assault had him falling into a simple, back and forth rhyme; while I wasn't fast enough to take true advantage of this, it did free up some of my attention to very quickly figure out how to direct the steam wafting off me.

I didn't need fine control just yet, so as soon as I got my head around how to vaguely direct the aerosolized water (or whatever it was) I shoved it all in the psychotic animal's general direction. The effect was immediate, the hot steam blistering their already burnt flesh on contact; unfortunately, I simply didn't have a lot of hair, barely enough to loosely cover the berserker's skin. Fortunately, by this point, only smouldering rags hung off the lunatic, his hair having burnt down to his blackened and bleeding scalp; this allowed my newly gained steam to reach more of his freshly exposed flesh easier, greatly increasing the spread of tissue damage.

Ten seconds passed, and I didn't hesitate to fake a stumble; the rabid semblance of a man that was my target didn't hesitate either, lunging forth with fingers splayed and jaw wide as I felt my fire shifter power settle in… without pushing away the steam, somehow settling into the already occupied slot. It felt strange, as if the cloudy crystal of my new steam power deformed around the fiery block, but I didn't have time to analyze it.

An instant before Alik's fingers closed around my throat, my flesh dissolved into fire… and my dispersed hair did as well. Instantly, the psychotic maniac was engulfed in flames, a roar of frustrated frenzy leaving the burning man even as his flesh bubbled and burned, melted fat spilling out through rents in his charred skin and stoking the inferno even higher. He continued swinging wildly, trying to tear into my intangible form even as his fists trailed ashes, fingers crumbling more and more by the second.

It wasn't enough, not to kill him or even incapacitate him. Despite being completely engulfed in flames for another five seconds, muscles, tendons, and nerves burnt to cinders at points, the deranged simulacra kept swinging twitching and half slackened limbs at me. Snarling like an animal, cracked teeth visible through his burnt and blackened ruin of a face, the madman lunged at me with his partially exposed jaws wide the moment my fire form dimmed and died.

I yelped as yellowed teeth sank into my collarbone, inhuman rage granting burned muscles the strength to break the skin even with most of his jaws fully burned away. He was still actively burning, even as he gnawed and scratched at me, fat bubbling and blazing throughout his charring meat. He no longer had nails on his fingers, but the blackened, cracked bones jutting out from the ashen remains of his fingertips managed to cut into my flesh and leave slivers of burned bone in the wounds.

I screamed in pain-driven anger, slamming my fists into his head with all the strength I could muster from the awkward position. With my fire form on cooldown, I sent my steamy hair swirling around his head; loosely concentrating the burning steam around the hole where his nose used to be in some vague hope it might suffocate him. Hammering my fists down as hard as I could onto his brittle blackened skull, I felt the bones break beneath my fingers in the third strike; yet, even as my knuckles sank into his brain matter he didn't cease trying to chew through my chest.

Agony shot through me as the wretched husk dug his chipped teeth into my collarbone, managing to find purchase from the infernal hysterical strength he had. Tears flowed from my eyes as I screamed, tearing into his shattered skull to expose his brain. I dug my fingers into the open wound I carved into the back of his head, ignoring the horribly discomforting feeling of reaching my fingers through a wet and scorched hole in his head to pinch and tear out chunks of his grey matter. With each finger full, Alik's charred body spasmed more and more erratically, before finally going still as the world began breaking down around us.

SUCCESS

REWARD: Mudslip (1)

I gasped, nearly falling off the swingset as I instinctively grasped at my chest, the phantom feeling of teeth leaving marks on my bones and the smell of burnt flesh in my nose lingering as a new, light brown crystal that felt like ever shifting mud formed in my mind. I felt inexplicably tired, a faint feeling of weariness settling over my body as if I had been exercising for a short while. As much as I'd like to sit down and put my thoughts on all of this to paper, I needed to act quickly if I wanted to get a shot at the last two available targets here.

My eyes flickered between the two briefly before settling on the pebble thrower; while he did have a ranged attack, I had more confidence in my ability to deal with that than full fledged rock armour.

Jeremiah Fink

Delinquent: 1/6

【ZONE】【TIME】

I issued my challenge without hesitation, finding myself transported to the middle of a bustling, three story mall. I frowned, sweeping my eyes over the shifting crowd, searching desperately for the target amongst the river of people. Somewhere in this throng, my target was either getting closer to an exit or closer to me; and, of course, I couldn't forget that I needed to find and kill them within five minutes or face an escalating influx of reinforcements.

I sighed, but honestly, despite the difficulty inherent in the scenario before me, part of me was glad to face this kind of challenge. This was exactly the kind of thing I would undoubtedly need to face in the future; hiding amongst civilians was a trick so common amongst villains it accounted for nearly forty percent of all successful escapes. Whether I succeed and get a weaker version of an already weak power, or I fail and get experience dealing with this kind of situation; either way, I win.

Allowing a smile to spread across my face, I pull my new power to the forefront alongside my steam, feeling the white crystal mold around the ever shifting brown block. The two powers seemed to slide against one another, not quite fusing but definitely cosying up in the single slot they shared. My hair dissolved, and the laminated tiles beneath my feet melted into a slick muck.

Interesting, Alik needed direct skin contact for his quirk to take effect, yet my power seemed to function just fine through the soles of my shoes. That was probably a side benefit of how my power changed acquired quirks, something to study more when I wasn't on a ticking timer to bullet town coming to introduce itself. I also wasn't sure where it had been weakened compared to Alik's version, but I was certain it had

I took my first step with my new power, and promptly fell straight on my face; well, I caught myself with my hands before I would have actually faceplanted, but the effect is similar. Suddenly making the ground super slippery could definitely make you faster if you were skilled at such methods of locomotion, but for the average person my new power may as well be renamed to "immediately trip self." Great, super useful, definitely feels worth the agony of acquiring it.

I started laughing so I wouldn't cry, deactivated my new and thoroughly unmastered power, and stood up as quickly as I could. Many of the NPCs around me were giving me strange looks, though none of them moved to either help or hinder me. I ignored the pseudo-people's gawking (though, one little girl pointing and laughing made a piece of me die inside), glancing over the crowd in search of the target; with the sheer volume of faux-humanity around me, I wound up looking more for shifts in the visible human current than any individual, people pushing towards or away from me through the horde.

This would be much easier if my target had some obviously distinctive feature visible from a great distance, like the many unique mutants simulated around me. Then again, at least this guy can't shapeshift; I can only imagine hunting a shapeshifter in a crowd would be far too close to impossible for my liking. I briefly considered activating my fire form and making as big of a commotion as I could, but before I could give the thought serious consideration (and get over my culturally instilled embarrassment at the thought of causing a scene in public, even if this was all fake), I saw someone on the second floor shoving their way through the crowd above the wall of shifting gawkers around me.

Evidently, I had already made enough of a spectacle to get the target's attention.

I didn't hesitate, shoulder charging my way through the crowd in my path to the nearest staircase. I'd have preferred to run straight to the target and jump up to the second floor, but I had neither the quirks to make such a jump nor the knowledge/skill required to climb the pillars holding it up (at least, not quickly). A few people either didn't notice or didn't take me seriously and got bowled over for their trouble, but most people started jumping out of the way with only grumbles or shouts of annoyance.

I was lucky, the nearest stairway was within ten feet of my starting position; likely a deliberate choice from my power to give me a chance, though that might be looking too deeply into it. I all but flew up the stairs, gripping the rails to half-jump half-throw myself up five stairs at a time. I reached the top step with my head on a swivel, and got a fistful of sand to the eyes the moment my foot touched down even so.

I reared back with a shout of surprise and pain, only to get cut off by a solid double kick to the gut. Already off balance and blinded, the blow sent me falling over backwards, the weight of my assailant hastening my fall. I realized as I tumbled over that he meant to land on top of me, and ensure I slid painfully down every last step.

I dissolved into flame before my back hit the stairs, engulfing Jeremiah as he let out a shocked scream of his own. He landed hard at a bad angle, tripping forward as I swirled around him as best I could. Just like Alik, his hair and clothes ignited, his skin running like wax as it blackened into ash; unlike the psychotic Alik, Jeremiah didn't just shrug off horrendous pain and injury like it was nothing.

Without the dubious blessing of the Berserk state, the simulated boy reacted how he really would have to being set on fire; namely, letting out a scream of agony and rolling around as best he could on the slick, tiled stairs. His flailing only caused him to bang into the railing and bounce more roughly down the stairs as he fell, my intangible form unharmed by the aimless movements even as he burned more and more.

Following my burning target down, we both hit the ground a second before my fire form timed out. I made sure to arrange the bulk of my mass above him, managing to just barely get myself into a half crouched stance just as I reformed and slamming both feet straight into the back of the target's head just before he hit the ground. Even through my shoes I could feel his skull shatter under my full weight, cracking apart and digging into his brain as I bore down on him. Reality began to crack apart as I jumped up and kicked down again, crushing his skull in all the way and splattering blood and brain matter over the dirty white tiles as they dissolved into green light.

SUCCESS

Reward: Pocket Sand (1)

I took a deep breath, my legs feeling slightly shaky both from general weariness and the adrenaline of the last few seconds. Unfortunately, I didn't have time for a proper break if I wanted a shot at the stone armoured boy. My eyes snapped to the balding teen, taking in his challenge for barely long enough to read it before accepting.

Kon Takizawa

Delinquent Student 1/8

{EVNT} {REAL}

I blinked as reality crumbled, opening my eyes to a dark alley, rotting garbage only visible in the flickering light above a rusty back entrance to some business. I was standing in a loose circle of broken bottles, the bald boy I challenged standing before me, grime coating his skin and dirty, tattered clothes hanging loosely off him. Before I could fully take the situation in, a message box swallowed my vision.

COMPLETE THE INITIATION

I blinked, the words fading from my eyes as the teen before me shook his arms, rolling his shoulders to limber up. Strangely, he didn't immediately rush to attack me, and I even noted lucidity in his dark eyes. A snort off to the side drew my gaze away from my apparent opponent to a lime-green haired man wearing a dirty brown trench coat.

The man spat a glob of yellowed saliva to the side, adjusting a battered and sweat-stained fedora atop his head, "Alright, rules are simple; first out of the ring or unable to keep fighting loses, quirks are allowed, weapons aren't." A shark tooth grin spread across his pockmarked face, "Now beat each other bloody, eh?"

I blinked but my opponent didn't hesitate, lunging forth with stone plates rapidly spreading up his arms from his already coated fingers. I juked to the side, whirling around his back and calling up mom's power alongside my steam hair; I wasn't certain I had the upgrade mom displayed in her final challenge, but now was as good a time as any to find out. I reached out, wrapping the steam wafting off me loosely around my right hand as I targeted the bald teen's heart and pulled.

Or, at least, I tried to. As it turned out, I had not gained the upgrade my mom did. Instead, my power latched onto the stones the boy had coated his hands with, all of them. That… wasn't what I expected; I couldn't target the boy's body or organs, but I could pull multiple small objects at once. Mom's power had always been single target, and the apparent upgrade she'd received had remained single target, yet my version broke that mold.

I didn't have time to contemplate the strangeness of my power in the moment, pulling the stones with all the might my copied quirk could muster. The many small, flat stones that made up the fighter's armour suddenly flew towards me; with the teen's arms still raised before him, this put his face and chest directly into the flight path of many of the pebbles. He cried out in shock more than proper pain, but that moment of confusion and fear was more than enough to leave him open.

My steam wrapped fist crashed into the base of his neck, sending him tumbling forward to land face first on the rough concrete pavement with an audible smack. The burning hot steam surrounding my fist followed him, wrapping around his head and concentrating on his eyes, nose, and mouth to try and disorient and suffocate him as best I could.

Without the dubious blessing of the Berserk state robbing him of pain and fear, Kon reacted as any other teen would to slamming head first into the cement and having their head wrapped in burning hot steam; he screamed and tried to claw at the hot mist flowing into his nose, mouth, ears, and eyes as best I could direct it. His scratching fingers disrupted the steam a little, but he mostly just wound up carving thin gashes into his already boiling skin. I don't give him time to recover, leaping into the air to slam both feet solidly down on the back of the boy's head.

His scratching hands blunted the impact against the concrete somewhat, but I felt his skull crack apart under my heels nonetheless. Still, the simulation failed to similarly break down, so I readed myself to repeat the process before a hand on my shoulder stopped me. "Woah there Killer, I like the ruthlessness but there's no need to finish him off just yet; he's incapacitated, you already won." Reality began to crack apart at his words, leaving me feeling strange as the realization that I'd gone straight for the kill in what was effectively a spar without a second thought settled like lead in my gut.

SUCCESS

Reward: Stone Armour (1)

The feeling was outweighed by the far more pleasant sensation of a sturdy, plated grey block joining the small collection in my soul (or wherever they were stored), but only just. I knew my power encouraged lethal solutions, but realizing I've already taught myself to go for the kill in any fight was… uncomfortable.

Heroes sometimes killed villains -their official title authorized lethal force if they deem it necessary- but there was an unspoken understanding amongst most to at least try to take people in alive. The inability to hold back as appropriate was not looked on favorably by anyone, thus Heroes who always jumped straight to lethal force tended to not be very popular amongst the general public -though they were often very popular with specific subgroups- and often received notably less support from the Public Safety Commision (though that last part was never publicly acknowledged, and I had noted an uptick in mysterious deaths matching certain MOs after some lethal heroes dropped out of the public eye; whether they turned villain or formed some sort of murderous underground hero coalition, I didn't know).

I shook my head, trying to physically cast the discomforting thoughts from my mind. Besides, I had another potential option; the lethal instincts my power is training into me, so long as I can keep them out of real spars, would serve me perfectly well to beat challenges and (hopefully anyways) turn villains to my side! Making a new ally over a new corpse is always the better choice… probably.

Rather than dwell overmuch on the price of my powers, I swept my gaze across the park looking for more potential targets. Unfortunately, in the brief time I'd been here no one new had arrived, leaving me with only the family of elementals. The sense of body wide fatigue I'd noticed earlier had gotten more intense, not enough to be debilitating but it definitely felt as if I'd been working out every muscle in my body long enough to leave a small but notable ache in them. This moderate exhaustion left me less than enthused to throw myself into certain death even if my failed challenges had reset, which they hadn't; still, I felt it best to at the very least get a look at the next level of those two I succeeded at.

I settled my gaze on the steam-haired mother, as I knew her to be the less threatening of the two. While some might say it would be wiser to challenge the stronger opponent first before I grow even more weary, I honestly didn't think there was any way I could reasonably take Hinoko in a straight fight (presuming she can fully transform, I had yet to actually witness her full capabilities) whether I was fresh or tired. No, for her, the fight would end in stealth or defeat almost certainly, while I had far more faith in my ability to actually fight her mother.

Maria Mephsonn

Jaded Housewife 2\8

{WRLD} {REAL}

Hmm, the World modifier usually already entails npcs acting relatively normally, I struggled to think what exactly the Realism modifier would even change? Warily curious, I initiated the challenge and watched reality be consumed in green scan lines once again.

The difference from the first challenge was made starkly apparent the very moment the simulation faded into existence. I was standing in the same place as before, yet now the gate had two armed guards in dark suits and sunglasses standing outside the gate. A glance to the side showed the same small family as before slowly walking along the sidewalk just like last time.

I frowned, considering the situation before me. I had to assume there were more guards than those I could see inside, so unless I wanted to try my luck at taking on a potential horde of gun toting grunts, I would need a much different approach. While I could theoretically replicate my former success with enough speed (or some sort of stealth power like invisibility or something), I was decidedly less than confident in my ability to find and kill Maria before being shot to pieces. With the direct approach less than viable, I decided to try to see if I could get in from a different angle. I didn't bother waiting for the little family to pass by, turning to walk towards them further down the street.

I gave the triadic family a smile and a nod as I passed, idly wondering if they were representative of real people before putting the thought from my mind. I kept walking even after the family and target house disappeared around a corner, eventually crossing the street at a crossroads. I was tempted to just keep walking and see how far I could go, if there was a point where the simulation broke down, looped, or otherwise prevented me from wondering, but the mild but persistent ache in my everything convinced me to save such experiments for another day. I didn't know if this challenge was beyond me just yet, and the siren song of victory and progression sung louder than pure research value.

The road I swapped to curved back towards the target's house, just as I'd hoped; I'd have had to skip through people's backyards if it didn't, or just scrap the vague plan I had in mind and try my luck with another option. As I walked, I decided to use the travel time to experiment with my new power, slotting steam hair in as well just in case when I found I still could. The power settled into place like a dense stone, squishing Steam Hair until it settled around it like a thick layer of gel, or perhaps like extremely watery mortar.

The power itself seemed more notably divergent from the original than the rest I had, though not to the point if being unrecognizable; where Kon conjured up a bunch of curled-finger sized stones that spread up from his hand, my version seemed to coat my entire body in a thin layer of stone dust, perhaps granite from the colour. I noticed as I walked that the layer of grey seemed to slowly get thicker with time; though, the growth was slow enough that in the two or three minutes it took to reach the house directly behind the target's from when I activated the power, the stone coating had barely breached a centimeter's thickness.

I flexed my fingers, twisting my joints to test my flexibility; while I could distinctly feel the weight of the stone all across my body, it was surprisingly unobstructive to my movements. While that did somewhat call into question its protective capabilities, it was better than losing the ability to move or even just make a fist. An attempt at jumping told me my weight had gone up significantly, though I was still able to move without apparent hindrance despite what had to be the better part of a ton of stone dust coating me.

The added weight would make my plan to climb the fence much more difficult, if not impossible, and even if I could get in I doubted a little over a centimeter of granite would do much to stop a hail of bullets. This thought in mind, I swapped the new power out for my now familiar fire form; to my mild surprise, the dust across my skin didn't simply fade away but instead lost cohesion and fell from my body like sand, some still clinging on.

A light breeze carried most of the grey dust away, but there was still a notable pile at my feet and more than a small amount still attached to me. That… is not at all inconspicuous, I'll need to take that into account going forward; to keep from fouling my house, prevent leaving evidence of illegal quirk usage in real life, and because it could easily ruin any stealth attempts if discovered.

I shook my shirt and pants, taking in the scene before me. My initial plan had been to simply climb the chain link fence around the target's rear neighbor's house and use it to make getting over the back of their walled-in yard easier, but upon actually reaching the place I noticed they had left their garage door open. Well, their folly could potentially benefit me if I can find a weapon inside the house; sure, the guns in the guards hands are sure fire and effective implements of violence, but each of them also comes with the minor caveat of being in the hands of enemies.

A quick check found the internal door leading from the garage to the house was unlocked, but I decided to snoop around in the garage itself for a weapon before committing to upgrading my trespassing to full blown breaking and entering. There were plenty of tools laying about in plain sight, including a fire ax in decent condition and several screwdrivers, but they were all either too large to comfortably carry while climbing or not versatile and lethal enough to be better than the kitchen knives I was certain could be found in the house proper. It was only when I pulled open a metal drawer under a rusty and seemingly long disused workbench that I found a real prize; sitting amongst a loose array of various sized nails, wrenches, and pliers, was a forearm length machete, edge gleaming in the faint sunlight despite the dust and cobwebs settled over it.

The blade had a light patina of rust, but a quick test on a nearby folding chair's seat showed the edge to be sufficiently sharp to do the job. Good enough; it didn't need to hold up to extended use, it just needed to last long enough to get a gun in my hands. I didn't much care if my simulated foes got tetanus anyway.

Deciding I'd wasted enough time, I opted to skip searching the house fully and simply head out the garage's back door into the backyard; I'd put off testing how far I could go and the detail granted to random locations for some other time, perhaps if I get stuck. Fortunately no one interrupted me as I inspected the wall; I'd have hated to have to kill civilians defending their homes, even simulated ones. The fact my entire mission was arguably killing a civilian in their home did somewhat detract from that ideal, but I chose to dismiss that thought.

Matching my expectations, the target's neighbors had built their chain link fence right up to the corner of the wall around their house; it just goes to show, you are only ever as secure as your neighbors and logistical network. After tucking my newly stolen blade into a loop in my pants intended for a belt I've never needed climbing up the fence was a simple matter, and from there it wasn't hard at all to peek over the top of the wall; I'd have rushed straight over, but caution made me survey the place first.

My caution was vindicated immediately when I saw a guard casually walking the perimeter with a gun held lazily in both hands. Thankfully, I popped up over the wall just after he turned the corner, though I had to duck down when a glance straight ahead of me showed another guard rounding the opposite corner and walking towards me.

So, two patrolling guards in opposite positions. I'm sure there's a proper term for such a pattern, but for me I can just call it a problem; not an insurmountable issue, but trouble nonetheless. Having seen the guards were walking at a leisurely pace -likely bored from the routine and at least a little tired from the non-stop walking- I waited a few minutes until the guard moving towards the backyard turned the corner and started making his way towards the corner the initial guard disappeared behind.

I didn't have to wait too long, after five minutes the man in the slightly shabby black suit was about a third of the way through slowly walking across the backyard when I poked my head up. I didn't hesitate, throwing myself over the wall, twisting around and arresting my fall by grabbing the other side, and gently dropping into the short grass on the other side. Turning to face the guard showed they hadn't heard my descent, enabling me to power walk (to avoid making too much noise) up behind them; I'd have liked to sprint, but I had seen enough bodycam footage to know rapidly approaching footsteps in grass are more audible than you might think.

My cautious pace did manage to prevent detection, but I only got within killing range of the target just as they turned the corner. Frankly, that worked out even better for me, allowing me to buy a little extra time before the parallel patroller gets into visual range; though it did force me to stay a little closer to my current sub-target than I'd like to avoid being seen as the other guard rounds the corner. At this range it's easy to note the bluetooth headset sticking out of the man's left ear, which slightly complicates things but truthfully not much more than expected; all it really means is that, in addition to normal screams and groans people make when violently assaulted, I also have to worry about any attempt to communicate through the headset potentially giving me away.

Or in other words; if I don't kill him in the first strike, my cover will be very thoroughly blown regardless of whether he screams aloud or merely gurgles into the mic.

A quick glance around shows no one is watching which means it's go time; I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, and sprint the last few feet between me and the black suited man. Whether by laziness, complacency, or just sheer luck, the guard fails to notice my rapidly approaching footsteps in time to do anything about it. I don't say a word, choking down even a grunt of exertion that might give me away a second too early as I swing for his neck with all my strength.

My rusted blade bites deep, the edge crafted to sheer through branches easily parting flesh and gnawing on the bone beneath. Deep red arterial blood jets out around the metal intrusion with each pulse of the man's heart, splattering over the short grass at our feet; this stream of vital fluids flows all the faster as I tilt the blade forward to cut into his throat before wrenching it free. I reach out with my other hand to tear his earphone out and throw it into the leaves of a well groomed hosta before he could even paw at it.

I watch him futilely try to put pressure on the wound as he sinks to his knees, anxious for him to bleed out before someone notices. A cold, tingling fear bubbles up in my stomach and spreads across my body as the nameless guard tries to draw breath, a feeling of perverse wrongness stabbing my intestines with every red bubble oozing out his opened throat. I blink rapidly, shaking my head to cast out the voice telling me this was wrong, evil; it isn't real, it doesn't matter.

In a second the fear turns to anger, he's not dying fast enough! I take my blade in both hands and swing for the other side of his neck, feeling flesh part and bone fracture. Another desperate hack finds purchase in the shattered ligaments and crashes through the bone like an icebreaker, requiring only a small bit of vaguely sawing motions before his head comes off completely.

Finally, the guard's corpse collapses to the ground and I'm left panting, staring at the results of my actions for several long seconds as my desperate rage fades into a cold anxiety. My eyes are fixated on the blood jetting from his torn open veins, tracking it down into the spreading puddle around the fallen body. I take a step back to avoid getting blood on my shoes, turning away from the scene of my crime before my breakfast can travel back up my throat.

"It isn't real, it doesn't matter, it isn't real…" I chant beneath my breath, slapping my face lightly to bring my focus back to the present. From the moment I swung my blade, I put myself on a timer; the other guard was still making his way around the building, his leisurely pace giving me maybe five minutes before he would turn the corner, see what I've done, and more than likely send out an alert. Even if I silence him before he can get the word out, odds are the guard at the front door will notice the break in the patrol pattern and either investigate or -if he's smart or decently trained- immediately call it in.

Unless of course, he's asleep like the previous challenge; though that's not something I can safely rely on without taking some risks to confirm it.

There's nothing I can do to hide the body; even if I do move it behind the bushes, the massive pool of blood will definitely give the game away. Knowing this, I don't bother doing anything with it save take the gun off him (using the convenient strap to hang it off my shoulder), instead drawing upon my mudslip power and using it to make the ground around the corner very slippery to set up an ambush. Once I was satisfied with my mud slick, I swapped mudslip out for pocket sand.

The brick in my mind felt like fine sand packed into a very tight solid shape, eager to explosively crumble apart at the first opportunity. Its effects were immediately clear the moment I drew upon it, a small pile of extremely fine white sand arising from my palms. The small grains only amounted to barely a handful in each hand, but dumping them both into one hand should be more than enough to put the guard off balance, even if their sunglasses protected their eyes.

I wouldn't give them the chance to recover once they were.

A few tense minutes hiding in a bush just around the corner later, and I hear the guard slowly walking closer. The first minor issue arose when their footsteps slowed down and a quiet, "What the hell?" reached my ears. Fortunately, they evidently didn't consider the mysterious mud patch worth calling in, and continued walking with only a few muttered insults to his deceased coworker lying not ten feet behind me.

His lack of caution would be his undoing. Just as predicted, the moment he steps onto the slippery mud his foot slides out from under him. Perhaps on its own that wouldn't have been enough to knock him off his feet, but I take the uncertainty out of the equation by leaping from the bush and lashing out with the handful of sand clutched in my left hand. I immediately swap to my mother's power and yank the bluetooth from his ear even as the clump of sand hits his face, reaching for his gun with one hand and slashing at his throat with the other as the little machine goes flying.

This, of course, is where the plan starts breaking down.

The man let out a loud cry of panic and confusion just before my blade found a home in his throat, silencing his scream but doing nothing to stop him from instinctively pulling the trigger on his gun. Fortunately, I had managed to get one hand on the barrel and forced the gun away from me, but the loud sound of automatic weapon fire filled the air nonetheless. I grimaced, cursing under my breath as I jerked my blade back and forth in his neck before wrenching it out and slamming it down on his wrist, leaving his severed hand and the gun still clutched in it to fall into the dirt.

I jumped off the man, keeping my hold on the barrel of his gun, snarling as his severed hand still clenched the trigger. With stealth thoroughly out the window, I didn't even bother trying to peel his hand free, instead twisting about to send the stream of bullets into the house. I didn't know if there were guards inside, but I felt it was a safe bet and wanted to at least try to thin their numbers before they converged on my position.

The moment the gun clicked dry I threw it through the nearest window, slotting my fire form power into the forefront and leaping in after it. The very first sight to meet my gaze was a vindication of my hosing down the house with lead; three dead guards were slumped over a chair in what seemed to be a dining room, their bodies having scattered the chips and cards of what looked like a poker game. A fourth lay a short distance away, a pool of blood spreading out around him as he tried to put pressure on his rapidly bleeding wounds.

He stared up at me, black eyes filled with animal fear and hatred as he tried to speak; only gurgles escaped his throat, tears streaking down his cheeks and leaving trails through the blood splashed over his face. I kicked his gun further away from him before picking it up and strapping it over my other shoulder, tucking my blade into a loop in my pants before picking up another gun in each hand from those laying face down on the table. A part of me (a large part of me) wanted to help the dying man -especially with his quiet weeping crawling in my ears-, to at least offer him a quicker and less painful death; I ignored this voice.

I couldn't afford to waste neither my time nor a bullet on a dying npc; every second since my cover was blown was crucial and every bullet could be the difference between victory and failure. He wasn't real, and when I win or die his suffering will have never really happened at all; if I spend the time to shoot him, all I'll be doing is giving my position away, even if it would slightly alleviate my wounded conscience. Gritting my teeth, I silenced the quiet voice telling me I was becoming a monster and sprinted from the room.

The stairway was between me and the front door, but the hall leading to said stairs was a straight shot from the door. I could see the handle turning as I ran, and didn't wait for whoever was on the other side to get it all the way open before leveling one of my recently acquired machine pistols at the door and squeezing the trigger. I let fly a long burst of lead straight into the wooden door then put another burst into either side just in case.

A scream of pain elicited from the second burst drew a grim smile to my face as I rounded the corner and started running up the spiraling stairs, the faint satisfaction at out playing these grunts feeling like sweet poison in my soul. I ignored the sickly feeling in my stomach, leaping up the last three steps and turning towards where the target had been last time. Breathing heavily and feeling my heart pound, I didn't even bother running over to kick the door open before hosing down the general direction with as many bullets as I could, squeezing the triggers until both guns clicked empty.

I tossed the spent weapons aside as a chorus of feminine screams met my ears, pulling the two fresh guns from my shoulders and approaching cautiously; the mere fact the world had yet to dissolve told me the target wasn't dead, so I had to consider them as still an active threat. I paused before I got within arms reach of the door, glancing down and noticing steam seeping out from under the door frame. With a grimace, I crouched down, setting one gun on the ground and taking the other in both hands.

Closer to the ground, I could hear heavy footsteps downstairs, surviving guards undoubtedly making their way towards me and putting me on a timer before lead started flying my way. I hastily raised my weapon at the already bullet ridden doorway, and carefully carved a line of fresh bullet holes across the walls and door at about knee height. That elicited a shocked scream of pain, but before I could celebrate a job well done, burning hot steam erupted out of every gap I'd made.

I didn't have the time or space to try and run, so I grabbed up my second gun and erupted into flames a second before the roiling steam engulfed me. The white vapor was dense enough to block my vision entirely and even seemed to have a pronounced effect on my hearing, but I didn't need to see more than blurry outlines to run in a straight line. I slammed into the bullet ridden -and now more than slightly water damaged- door at full tilt, only lightly scorching the jagged remains of the edifice as I passed through the numerous holes in it much like the steam itself had.

The burning fog was even denser in the master bedroom, obscuring everything in a white haze. I counted the seconds in my head as I desperately searched around for my target, knowing agony would rob me of my senses the moment my fire form dropped. A vicious smile spread across my face as I caught sight of an indistinct figure huddled in a corner, leveling my pistols at them just before my fire died out.

The pain hit me all at once, my blurry vision vanishing as I slammed my eyes closed in a futile attempt to keep them from burning out of my skull. The steam was hot enough to inflict third degree scalding near instantly, the vapor turning to water on contact and clinging to my seared skin. I could feel my skin blistering and peeling, the flesh underneath becoming inflamed and burned as scalding water seeped through the wounds it opened to get at the meat underneath.

I released a scream of agony and defiance, accidently letting the burning mist into my mouth as I just barely managed to get my increasingly numb fingers to clench down as hard as I could. My arms -already shaking before I pulled the triggers- jerked wildly, barely managing anything even approaching accuracy. It was enough, however, and after a few seconds I felt my wounds dissolve into nothing alongside the still clicking guns in my hands.

SUCCESS

Reward: Maria Mephsonn +

I shivered uncontrollably in my swing, not bothering to pretend to keep swinging as phantom pain tingled along my skin. Somehow, I felt cold, as if my no longer burnt nerves had their baseline askew after experiencing one extreme. That… was the most horrendous experience of my life.

It wasn't the first time I'd been burned -Katsuki had a strange fascination with searing his handprints into my skin- and probably wouldn't be the last time either, but it was the first time I'd been burnt that badly, that comprehensively. I had honestly thought I was going to pass out from the pain before the world dissolved, I was halfway convinced I'd managed to miss every shot and endured all that agony for nothing. The fact I'd actually managed to eke out a narrow, pyrrhic victory in the end only slightly mollified the part of me begging me to reconsider this whole heroism idea if it meant facing suffering like that ever again.

As I slowly got control of myself, I noticed something odd, something that sent the paranoid part of my mind developed by years of dodging Bakugou's pranks murder attempts squealing mad; Maria was watching me intently, her face unreadable. I didn't meet her icy cerulean eyes for long, glancing down at her newly unlocked challenge. With how close to a painful failure I'd come last time coupled with the slight tremor of exertion in my muscles I didn't have high hopes of passing any challenges without some rest, but a whispered thought told me it would be wise to at least learn what the challenge is.

Maria Mephsonn

Mob Wife 3\8

{EVNT} {REAL} {WRLD}

My eyes flew wide before I schooled my expression, barely managing to stop myself from glancing at the older men of the family. Mob Wife?! As in, wife of an organized criminal?! I thought All Might wiped them all out! Or… Or maybe he had just shattered them, driven them underground like cockroaches fleeing light. Blunt as he was, it wouldn't surprise me if he hadn't tracked down every thread to rip them out root and stem.

It would be just like him to miss the little details, just like he misplaced a murderous villain, whispered a small, spiteful voice in the back of my mind with a tone like boiling fat.

I suddenly felt much less confident in continuing to challenge anyone from that family! But then, a little voice like a crystalline windchime whispered in my mind, 'Isn't this an opportunity to do something heroic? If my power improves people, makes them loyal to me, wouldn't making these villains swap sides be the heroic thing to do?'

I stared at her lock, the phantom feeling of being steam boiled alive slithering down my muscles. And yet… and yet I wanted to at least know what I was up against. A glance back up at her face showed she'd looked away, focusing on her children once more. Steeling my nerves, I muttered under my breath, "Challenge."

Reality dissolved away, and a strange feeling of motion hit me before my vision faded back in. I was sitting in a van, my back to the driver seat and facing a small group of riot gear covered thugs sitting on benches bolted to either wall. Each faceless goon was armed with a riot shield and a long, flanged truncheon, though I myself was unarmed and dressed in the same clothes I came in with. If this was based on a real situation, I suspect whoever these people are would have been equipped with guns; while hard to get your hands on due to heavy restrictions, I knew well that enough money in the darker parts of society could get a firearm in your hands.

As I took in the unfamiliar environment, I found my mouth moving against my will, "Let's go over this one last time; we get in, kill anyone who gets in the way, grab the bitch, extract her, and get paid. Simple enough?" Apparently, I'm not a very nice guy in this simulation; the idea of being put in a villainous role sat rather ill with me, but I swallowed my discomfort with now practiced ease. Perhaps fortunately, the burning white words I associated with my power briefly filled my vision as the words echoed throughout the van to a chorus of silent nods, distracting me from my uncomfortable thoughts.

EXTRACT THE TARGET ALIVE

I shook my head as the words faded, already not liking where this was headed. It's a known fact on even the most periphery parts of the hero scene that capturing people was always harder than killing them -it's part of the reason heroes that went out of their way to take villains alive were often seen as more skilled by the public- and going even further to needing to 'extract' them as well?

I swallowed a surge of anxiety, steeling myself to at least learn as much as I could before a most likely painful death. My fists clenched on nothing, as I stared enviously at my apparent allies' equipment before the thought that I could try asking for them dawned on me. I pointed at the faceless mook closest on my right, "Do you have a spare batton?"

His black glass mask revealed nothing of his expression, but the tilt of his head suggested confusion, "Boss, you're sitting on the spares." His tone was flat enough I could almost hear the unspoken 'dumbass,' at the end.

I coughed, looking down at what I was actually sitting on for the first time. Rather than the padded benches the goons were perched on, I was sitting on a large, unpainted metal crate. Slightly embarrassed, I stood up (gripping the lip of the crate tight to keep my balance on the erratically moving vehicle) and felt around for the latch to open the crate. A few seconds of blindly groping under the lip rewarded me with a simple latch that had the top of the silvery crate pop open on silent, well greased hinges.

The sight within told me my quirk didn't hate me, at least not completely; on the left was a haphazard pile of long truncheons, and on the right side of the bin was a stack of the same transparent riot shields everyone else was holding. While I'd have preferred a gun (or even a sword), the very fact my power didn't just leave me entirely high and dry made these meager weapons like manna from heaven.

There was no armour, but I was already better off than I thought I'd be so I couldn't complain (much). I had honestly been expecting to have to lead this armed squad completely empty handed, I wouldn't have been surprised at all to be told to suck it up and deal with it. While this scenario wasn't wholly realistic, at least my power wasn't going out of its way to skew things against me over much. It wouldn't make sense in this scenario for me, acting as the apparent leader of this (hopefully) fictional armed band of murderous kidnappers, to not be armed at least as well as my team.

There was the question of why I spawned on top of a crate full of gear rather than with it in hand, but there were far too many equally plausible reasons for that to narrow it down just yet.

It wasn't long after I picked up a club and shield that the van jerked to a stop, quickly followed by three quick raps on the divider separating the driver from the back. A muffled voice called out from behind the thin metal, "We've arrived, go time boys!"

I nodded, watching my nominal subordinates smoothly flow out of the back door before attempting to mimic them. I wasn't quite as fluid in my movements as these clear professionals, but I did manage to exit the vehicle without banging my bulky weapons into anything, so I counted that as something of a minor victory. I could learn a good bit from this mission, at least in this very specific field; fortunately, it was knowledge that might actually help in a heroic career!

Much like Jeremiah's first challenge taught how to find a fleeing suspect in a crowd, this scenario provided a perfect opportunity to learn how to manage small unit tactics and even the basics of target extraction. Not all, nor even most, heroism involved clear and open battles on the streets; while not many villains had open doom fortresses nowadays, heroes capturing a high priority villain from within a secure compound and delivering them to police was far from unheard of.

We were parked just slightly out of easy view from the guards standing in front of the gate, hidden by the curve of the street and the shadow of a large tree. That gave us the option of trying for stealth, but might prove troublesome when it comes to the whole "extraction" part of this mission. Deciding that trying to sneak seven armed men over the back wall was… not likely to go well, I tapped on the driver's side window as my men took up a loose formation around the shaded sidewalk. The window rolled down, and a thug dressed identically to the rest of my goons gave me a questioning tilt of the head, "What's up, bossman?"

I nodded my head at the barely visible gateway slightly down the road, "After we kill the guards, move the van directly in front of the gate; we're probably going to be coming out hot, so any delay should be eliminated."

He nodded, giving me a thumbs up, "Understood, will do." I returned his nod, turning back to my little squad of home invaders.

I looked over each man, finding that despite their identical gear they each had a slightly different build; slight variations in height, musculature, and so on that told me they weren't just wholly generic npcs. While that was a somewhat interesting little factoid to discover, most of the time I burned observing them was spent on rapidly trying to plot out how the hell I was gonna pull off this kidnapping. As I'd thought before, trying to sneak over the wall in riot gear while holding large and clunky weapons was probably a no go (though, I suppose we could throw the gear over and then collect it after we climb the wall), so I was really only left with either leading a frontal assault or abandoning one as a distraction to sneak in myself.

It felt… wrong… unheroic, to simply send my men out to die just to make noise. Not so wrong that I didn't consider it, they were only npcs after all, but bad enough I decided to save such honourless tactics for a second attempt if I couldn't win an upfront battle. Besides, we're all equipped and set up for a loud entrance, I might as well go all in and see what happens. I turned back to the driver, "Change of plans, ram the gate guards."

I could practically feel the grin on the wheelman's concealed face, "Oh, now you're speaking my language bossman! Hahahahaaa!" Without a second thought, the man shifted out of park and slammed his foot on the gas, barely giving me enough time to jump back before he swerved onto the sidewalk at a rapidly increasing speed.

A nervous smile spread across my face as I turned to the band of faceless mooks arrayed loosely around me, "Alright, get your shields up and ready, we're going in hot!" Lingo from a smattering of old military movies flowed from my tongue. A moment later, twin screams of surprised fear reached my ears before two rapid, heavy thunks rang out and their voices went silent. I nodded to the men, raising my own shield up in front of me and adjusting my grip on my club, "That's our que, go go go!"

To their credit, the jackboots didn't hesitate a second, covering themselves with their shields and charging straight for the gate the moment the words left my mouth. Fortunately -for me- they didn't seem to expect their fearless leader to actually lead the charge, which allowed me to position myself safely (relatively speaking) in the back of their formation. Our little troupe caught up to the van fairly easily, finding it parked right next to the gate with the broken bodies of the former guards lying beneath it.

Keeping my shield between me and the house, I tucked my bludgeon into a loop in my pants and fished a machine pistol out of one of the puddles of former people. The same squady who'd informed me of the box of gear I started out sitting on copied my actions, both of us coming away with slightly bloody and dinged up but probably still usable guns. Of course, this is when the first major logistical problem arose; I can easily slip through the gate in my fire form, but my npc companions almost definitely couldn't.

I was half tempted to order the driver to ram the gates, but figured the risk of damaging the engine was too high. I wasn't sure if the mission would outright fail or just become much, much harder if the van broke down, but I wasn't too keen to potentially waste a run finding out just yet. Instead, I opted to first simply check if the gate was actually locked, the resounding clang telling me that it was.

Any musing on how to unlock it was cut off by a burst of heavy impacts against my shield, smashing deep craters into the thick glass, each one ringed by very concerning cracks. The force nearly knocked the clear barrier from my hand, sending me stumbling back in shock. A series of loud cracks hit my ears a quarter second after, clearing my brief confusion; I'd been shot at, and the shield I'd held a little too casually had likely saved the run.

I threw myself back and to the right, taking cover behind the grey stone wall. Between heavy breaths, I took a closer look at my cracked and dented shield; there was a distinct downward angle to the impact marks that, even with my lacking knowledge of ballistics, indicated the bullets had been traveling diagonally downwards. I frowned deeply, "There's someone shooting from the second floor." I jab my shield towards the only other goon with a firearm, "Fling lead at them, whether it kills them or just forces them into cover it'll give the rest of us a chance to get that gate open!"

The helpful mook who'd taken the other available gun (who I mentally nicknamed 'Gunner' in the absence of a proper name) grunted in confirmation, quickly checking his ammo before stepping out in front of the gate. Wisely, he kept his shield in front of him, firing short bursts up at the windows from around the side. I pointed at two random other goons, "Get that damn gate open, I don't care how!" They nodded back, shifting around 'Gunner' to begin fiddling with the gate.

That was when things started to go wrong. Despite how strong our clear shields were, they weren't quite large enough to fully cover the body from head to toe. It was through that rather minor gap a bullet slipped, traveling horizontally (likely from the definitely not sleeping doorman) to slam into and through 'Gunner's' booted foot, bursting out the back of his heel in a spray of blood and bone fragments. 'Gunner's' stream of suppressing fire immediately cut off and he fell to one knee with a cry of pain. A second later, the now unsuppressed second floor shooter (or shooters, I wasn't sure yet) popped back up and pelted the three goons with a hail of lead from above.

'Gunner' went down almost instantly, his head blown apart by three bullets to the forehead; the first cracked his face mask, the second shattered it, and the third passed through his skull twice on its way to dent the back of his helmet. The other two didn't last much longer; they had leaned their shields up against the gate while they worked to pry it open, and without their support the first rounds knocked the transparent barriers over, exposing them to the following volley of bullets. Half my team dead in less than thirty seconds, lovely.

I made a mental note to study up on small unit tactics before the next time I braved this challenge, and perhaps the basics of siege craft.

This run was as good as failed, only the actual dying was left to play out. That didn't mean I was just going to give up; this was an opportunity to learn more about what I was up against for the future. Crouching slightly so my shield could cover my whole body, I ran in front of the gate, the ever increasing added weight from the stone dust coating me allowing me to hold fast against the hail of bullets that impacted me the moment I breached cover.

I sprinted straight for the gate, swapping to and activating my fire form an instant before I would have ran face first (well, shield first but the principle remains) into the solid iron bars. Bullets whizzed harmlessly through my plasmatic form, briefly trailing little spirals of flame and granite dust as they passed. I dashed as quickly as my insubstantial form could go, leaping the last few feet to take shelter behind the front wheel of the large van in the driveway. I barely made it, a bullet slamming into the tarmac not an inch from my foot as I reformed before I tucked myself up behind the tire and my shield.

I was glad I had the forethought to put my shield between me and the car, because not two seconds after I curled up behind it, a bullet ripped straight through both tires and slammed into the clear barrier. I flinched at the unexpected impact, realizing the movies had lied about how bullet proof cars were as another two rounds slammed home. I grimaced, mind racing as more and more impacts spread cracks across my shield.

Come on, think, think! Victory is probably beyond my reach, but I can still learn something from this whole disaster before I die. If this were a standard kill mission I'd say I still had a chance here (not a good chance, but a chance nonetheless), but with the requirement to extract the target alive, the expedient and still plausible option to rush the house and pray for a quick kill with a stolen gun simply wasn't viable. If I just die here and now, all I'll have learned is there are gunmen on the second floor looking out the windows; not insignificant to be sure, but far from satisfying.

Another bullet struck an already cracked portion of my shield, sending small shards of… whatever transparent material this thing was made of flying off fast enough to lodge themselves in the tire behind me. I counted the seconds in my head, feeling my fire form recharge just as a bullet found purchase in my splintering shield and lodge within it. I couldn't stop a tremor in my fingers as I stared wide eyed at the deformed bullet protruding a centimeter through the glass-like shield right in front of my left eye.

I faded into fire the very instant I was able, not wasting a single second before leaping over the car's hood and sprinting full tilt towards the door. The normally sleepy doorman was on his feet, holding his mac-10 with both hands and unloading into my now ethereal chest with a furious expression on his face. I crossed the distance faster than even I'd expected, a hail of bullets zipping through my insubstantial form before I all but threw my burning body atop the shooter.

He screamed, the now uncomfortably familiar sound drawn out by unbearable agony tearing up his throat as his cheap suit ignited and his flesh ran like wax. I had barely enough time to angle the majority of my flames behind him as my timer ran out, reforming with my machine pistol already leveled at the back of his head. A quick squeeze of the trigger relieved him of his suffering.

I scooped up the fallen guard's gun, taking a second to figure out how to eject the half spent magazine before tucking it into my pocket and discarding the empty gun. Now at the door, it seemed no one had a good angle to shoot at me from. I presumed this would be a temporary affair, though the apparent absence of the yard-roaming guards struck me as odd. I doubted they'd simply been reassigned to shooting from the windows, but I couldn't see any reason why they wouldn't have made their way to join the fire fight at the front gate if they were still here.

A glance back the way I'd come showed my abandoned surviving mooks having taken some initiative of their own; they took turns running out from cover, partially crouched to keep their shields between them and the stream of bullets that came to greet them, and took a couple swings at the gate with their clubs before retreating back to the relative safety of the solid grey walls. They were making slow but noticeable progress, at least in so much as denting the gate around the center lock counted, but at their current pace it would take hours for them to get through. I very much doubted I had that kinda time, to say the least.

A noise behind me drew my attention away from my subordinates' efforts. I turned around just in time to see the door handle jiggle a bit before starting to turn. I didn't hesitate, raising my gun to about chest height and sending a burst of lead through the sturdy wooden door. A cry of pain vindicated my efforts, but a flash of movement in the corner of my eye drew my gaze to one of the windows along the porch.

A scowling, besuited grunt met my eyes, his gun already halfway raised. I blinked in surprise. He didn't.

A hail of bullets shatter the window, carrying on to tear through my body. My shield, held loosely in my left hand, does block some of the rounds, but as cracked as it is and not even being properly held, it only served to prolong my death a few scant seconds. The bullets tear through me, shredding organs, shattering bones, and splattering my vital fluids all over the ground. Before long I find myself watching my body being torn apart from a third person perspective for a few seconds before the world fades away.

Somehow, the fact I failed to even lay eyes on the target stung more than the bullet wounds, though that could be put down to just how quickly they tore me apart.

FAILURE

HINT: Event (EVNT) missions can often be solved in ways that aren't always immediately obvious. Make sure to consider all of the knowledge, resources, and powers at your disposal while keeping the victory conditions in mind before committing to a plan of action.

I frowned, looking over the fairly generic and unhelpful tip over before dismissing it. As the real world faded back into sight, the faint weariness I'd felt before settled over me far more heavily, as if I'd spent an hour strenuously exercising every muscle in my body without breaks. Maria's challenge timer is an hour, more than likely too long for me to get a second attempt today. A not insignificant part of me wanted to call it a day right then and there, but a stubborn determination forced me to shift my gaze over to Hinoko. I wanted to at least attempt her new challenge; whether I succeed or fail, I'll rest until my limbs stop trembling, then go scope out the beach before heading home.

While my earlier failed challenges were very close to reset already, I didn't have any new abilities that I felt would help sway things to my favour. While my fire form produced light that could theoretically help with hunting down Kemri, it was more likely to simply give my position away than actually help me find him before he takes off; Mudslip could help me set up an ambush if I can set him off and beat him to the door (presumably he wouldn't be stupid enough to pick the same direction if my triggering noise came from said door, though I suppose I couldn't say that for sure). Perhaps if I made a trap first, then circled around to the front of the building to break some glass I could lure him into said trap, but that still required me to quietly navigate a pitch black building without getting discovered.

The father and (probable) grandfather weren't even worth considering. While I could theoretically slip through the door in the older man's challenge, unless I could then take him by surprise and kill him instantly, I had no counter for being skewred from all directions by burning hot crystal spears. The father was even worse, and I would rather avoid wasting energy on a useless and painful death.

I decided to put off such challenges until I was either confident I could navigate the school blind or had some sort of night vision, and put all thoughts of challenging the older men from my mind until I was significantly stronger; any attempt on either (probable) gangster would only result in a painful waste of energy. Mind made up, I settled my gaze on Hinoko's challenge.

Hinoko Mephsonn

Popular Student 2\8

{GANG}

Gang, eh? That complicates things somewhat; if the scenario is anything like the last one, I can only assume this would require me to fight or sneak through a school full of hostiles to fight the fire shifter. I could only hope none of the dangerous students (like Bakugou for instance) would be involved, or this might be damn near impossible. Regardless, I pressed forward, "Challenge."

Reality shattered and I once more found myself standing outside Aldera high in broad daylight. The only obvious difference was that I was standing across the street in the shade of a large tree rather than right in front of the gate. While that little detail may have seemed minor, my prior experience with the Gang modifier had me very thankful for it; this would be hard enough with the element of surprise, being under attack from the word go would ramp up the difficulty far beyond my meager abilities.

As it was, my only hope of success here was to replicate my approach from the previous challenge, with the added difficulty that I would either need to completely avoid detection by anyone or kill anyone who spotted me quickly and quietly. If this simulation matched up to the time I shot up my apartment block, my previous trick of power walking through the crowd to stab Hinoko in the back wouldn't work; not only would the horde of students tear me apart, they'd undoubtedly alert the target before I could have a prayer of getting a lethal stab in.

The first step was still viable, if notably more difficult; sneaking around the back to steal a knife from the kitchen was still my most likely option for getting a decent weapon, but now I'd need to be extra careful about roaming students and the lunch ladies. However, once I've got a knife in hand I'll need a new strategy for how to actually close the distance and kill her with it; trying to muscle through a crowd of hundreds of murderous teenagers and possibly teachers was a forgone conclusion not worth playing out.

Perhaps… perhaps I could attack from above? I've seen maintenance people crawling into the space between the ceiling tiles and the floor above on more than a few occasions, if I could get in there I could drop down on the target from above. It would be hard, both to maneuver quietly inside and accurately assess where to drop from (let alone actually hitting her on my way down), but it was far more likely to succeed than trying to brute force my way through even a small part of the school.

Tentative plan in mind, I watched the meandering students walking around the grounds, waiting for them to either all go inside or at least reveal a pattern I could utilize. Five increasingly tense minutes revealed a definite pattern to their seemingly aimless wandering, but it was far from an easily exploitable one. Students flowed in and out in seemingly random but consistent patrol patterns, their movements appearing very much like the directionless milling about students often get up to when they have a decent sized break between classes, yet always covered most of the grounds despite their apparent lack of coordination.

They were also visibly getting more agitated with every passing minute, a clear indication that waiting around forever would not make things better even without the Time modifier.

I frowned deeply, watching the small groups and scattered individuals move around the grounds, going in and out of the school like white blood cells in some immense beast's heart. I suppose I could chock up their strange behavior to the lack of a realism modifier; without the Real tag, they were barely even pretending to be real people, just a thin veneer of humanity splayed out over malicious automatons. That thought was vaguely unsettling, the feeling of watching some strange sort of predators trying almost successfully to imitate human beings creeping down my spine like spiders made of ice.

I shudder slightly, shaking the thought off with some effort; this was hardly the time to get distracted by fanciful horrors. These aren't strange monsters using aggressive mimicry to lure in unsuspecting human prey, just unimportant npcs the programmer didn't bother fleshing out more than strictly necessary. They weren't designed to be fleshed out individuals, just expedient obstacles.

Obstacles that were proving very effective, much to my consternation. I couldn't see any path to the back door (or any other door for that matter) that wouldn't put me into easy view of at least one group. If I had the right offensive or stealth based quirk that might not have been too bad, something that could let me slip past or quickly and quietly eliminate a small crowd would be perfect; unfortunately I had no such thing, so I'd simply have to make do for now.

I could theoretically let my stone armour build up for a while and try to just rush through the crowd; with enough armour a normal person would have little they could do to actually harm me without certain quirks or sufficient weaponry. Without a significant strength boosting power, relying on brute strength would get you nowhere against a foot of stone; a mace, hammer, or gun might be able to shift that equation, but no one in Aldera was likely to have such a thing. Unfortunately, even if I spent the time to get that much armour, my armour did not give me super strength; raw weight of numbers would eventually allow the crowd to knock me off my feet and keep me pinned. From there, it would just be a matter of jabbing something sharp into my eyes, even a pencil would be sufficiently lethal if they drove it into my brain.

An idea struck me as I idly watched the fake people roam, one based on something I'd learned but hadn't really internalized; my fire form does not have to remain humanoid. While I'd used this to slip through closed doors, there was no reason I couldn't use it for less complex movement. Vague plan in mind, I jog around to the back of the school outside the tall fence.

Thankfully, there was no one keeping an eye on the space outside the school grounds. Before long I found myself staring up at the tall wall around the school, considering the logistics of trying to climb the ten foot slab of cement. I couldn't jump that high, nor could I knock the wall over or phase through it; however, that didn't mean this was wholly impossible.

I had seen heroes (and villains for that matter) without any sort of physically enhancing quirk make far greater leaps before; the exact mechanics were hotly debated, but it was a known fact that having a quirk factor enables one to train themselves beyond the physical limits that once restrained humanity. Unfortunately, I neither had a quirk factor, nor had I trained anywhere near sufficiently even if my artificial power granted me one.

That wasn't enough to make me give up without at least trying, however.

The first thing I did was turn my hair to steam to reduce my wind resistance by as much as I could, then I slotted in my fire form (though, at this point I mostly kept it in the slot by default anyway); from there, I did two dry runs to see how high I could jump standing still and trying to run up the wall as best I could. The standing jump was… uninspiring, to say the least, but a running start and an attempt to find purchase on the rough wall with my hands and shoes was a bit more promising.

Now convinced this might actually be possible, I backed up to get a running start, leapt as high as I could, and shifted into fire just as my shoes began to slip on the stone. Normally, I instinctively retained my humanoid form when I turned to flame, this time I focused on spreading myself upwards as a thin blob of fire. While disembodied like this my sense of which bit of flame was which part of me became somewhat muddled, the distinction more mental than real; thus, as my timer ran out I shifted the tip of the thin pillar from my head to my extended hands…

And came up just short of gripping the top of the wall, fingers scrabbling mere inches below the lip before I plummeted back down to the earth. I wasn't discouraged, however; I was so close, I just knew I could pull it off! Two tries later, and I reformed with my fingers just barely above the wall's top, and immediately latched on with a wide grin on my face. Actually pulling myself up and over the fence was simple from there, though I did pause with just my eyes above the lip to check that no one was back here.

To my surprised annoyance, I found a janitor standing outside the door smoking a cigarette. From his slouched posture and closed eyes I could tell he wasn't paying attention, but his presence would still make things difficult for me. He wasn't standing directly in front of the door, so theoretically sneaking past him wasn't totally impossible, he also hadn't looked up in the time I'd been watching him and regularly closed his eyes when he inhaled; that didn't make me any more confident in pulling such a trick off.

Even if the noise from jumping down didn't alert him, the rusty piece of scrap masquerading as a door was not exactly quiet when it opened; it wasn't loud per se, but it definitely creaked notably. The garage door was, for the first time I'd seen, closed, so the option of simply avoiding the main door was not on the table. If I tried to use my flame form to slip through the cracks, he'd undoubtedly feel the warmth on his back, see the light around him, and probably hear the crackle of flames. While he was thankfully inattentive to his surroundings, unless he was deaf, blind, and nerve dead, I wasn't getting through either door without alerting him.

Which left me needing to either distract or kill him without making too much noise and thus defeating the point. I frowned down at him, considering my options here. I didn't actually know much about hand to hand combat (something I had already made a mental note to research), nor did I have any directly and quickly lethal powers to draw upon. Without a weapon, my only real advantage here was that I was standing (or rather, hanging) ten feet in the air, about five feet above his head. That would have to do, or I'd be stuck until I either learned how to kill a man silently with my bare hands or gained a more offensive power.

I carefully pulled myself up over the top of the wall, crouching down on the thin but thankfully flat top with a bit of effort. I wobbled a few times as I slowly stood up, swapping my fire power for my stone armour; I wasn't intending to get into a fist fight (though it would be interesting to test how actually efficacious said armour was), I just needed the added weight a few millimeters of granite would add.

After a few moments spent letting my armour grow and gauging the distance between us, I crouched down and lept feet first towards him. I was aiming for his head, hoping for an instant kill; I ended up hitting his chest, my significantly increased weight throwing off my aim more than a little. Still, it did its job, knocking him over and expelling the air from his lungs so quickly it came out as a whistling whoosh rather than a proper scream.

It did a little more than even that, if the sound of snapping bones and squelching flesh was anything to go by. Having half a ton of granite suddenly dropped on your chest was far from good for your health, and I found myself having to step out of his caved in upper torso, pulped gore dripping off my stone encrusted shoes. I delivered a heavy stomp to his head just to be sure, crushing his skull against the stairs and splashing blood and brain matter up onto my legs.

I grimaced deeply, glad I couldn't actually feel the painting of viscera through the layers of stone even as thin fingers of disgusted horror crept up my spine. I quickly turned my gaze away, rolling my shoulders in some attempt to physically cast off my mental discomfort as I quickly crept up to the door. Here I dropped my stone armour, watching it drift away to settle into the alley around me (save that on my lower legs, which instantly mixed with the blood on them and turned to a gruesome mud) in favour of my fire form. I wasn't too worried about the dust spoiling my sneaking; if anyone was here to see that, the pulped corpse would be a bit more pressing on their minds.

I didn't spend long debating whether to risk the door creaking before igniting and slipping through the cracks, leaving the door frame lightly scorched. I sighed, glancing around the garage and thankfully finding no one standing within; my stealth skills definitely needed work. Oh well, one must make do with what they have.

I debated skipping getting the knife and relying wholly on the same trick I pulled on the janitor, but ultimately decided to at least check the kitchen before going straight into the ceiling. I believed the risk of being spotted getting the knife was worth it to have a second chance if my initial fall didn't score a kill. Three steps to the door I realized something unsurprising but annoying nonetheless; I was leaving a trail of pinkish mud behind, the mixed blood and granite on my legs having made the transition into fire with me. That was good to know for the future (as it meant turning to fire to escape some kind of clinging poison wouldn't work, which is very much something I'd rather know about sooner than later) but exceptionally bad for my chances of sneaking in and out of the kitchen without a fight.

Unless I could find a way to wash this damn gunk off my legs, any attempt to sneak in and out was effectively dead in the water. Even if I didn't get spotted at all, unless I somehow managed to kill the lunch staff without raising an alarm (something I had approximately zero faith in my ability to do), someone would notice my bloody footprints and investigate. Now, an investigation on its own might not be the end of the run, but I had no doubt it would cause a notable change in behavior from my target and their lackeys that could scupper my strategy.

That left me stuck between abandoning going for the knife or trying to wash my legs first, though unless I spent the time drying off that would just leave me with a different kind of trail left behind; admittedly, watery footsteps were far less attention grabbing than bloody granite dust, but getting any attention could still cause problems. I could try full blown abandoning my pants and shoes to get the majority of the slop off me, but that would ultimately make crawling through the rafters much more difficult for the mere possibility that I might be able to sneak through and grab a decent knife.

Ultimately, I had to simply sigh and give up on swiping a knife; I'd just have to make sure my first shot didn't miss.

Mind made up, I turned my back on the door to the kitchen and headed towards the nearest janitor's closet; one of which was thankfully tucked back here in the offloading area, likely to keep it out of the sight (and reach) of the students. I knew they had ladders and provided a straight shot up into the rafters without the lowered ceiling tiles the public areas had. Turns out, getting locked in various out of the way closets and lockers had some upsides! Not that I'd ever thank Bakugou for it, he certainly hadn't done it to help me at all.

This particular closet was Bakugou's favorites, mostly because it was far out of the way from regular traffic and contained a variety of foul smelling chemicals that stung the nose and eyes to simply be around. The place was practically abandoned, a short hallway off the side of the loading bay lit only by a dull and flickering light wrapped in cobwebs. A quick check of the shadowy door at the end of the dusty hall showed it to be unlocked, decidedly against safety standards but exactly as my memories expected.

It was those same pungent chemicals that stung the eyes of my memories that shifted my plan somewhat; there, sitting neatly on rows of dusty, cobwebbed metal shelves, were several dozen two gallon jugs of bleach and vinegar. I blinked at the plastic jugs, counting out thirty bottles of each respective chemical; roughly sixty gallons of deadly chemicals sitting innocently on apparently long disused shelves.

I could imagine why some budgeteer may have purchased such supplies, the school never wanted for messes and clogged toilets after all; it would hardly seem like a bad idea, at least not at the time, to preemptively spend a few hundred bucks on such supplies rather than need to desperately send people out to get some when some drunk senior pukes their guts out in the main hall. Or when Bakugou leaves a junior that still had hope in a puddle of their own blood and they need to wash the stains away before they can have local, definitely not corrupt at all cops glance over and dismiss the scene.

From my earlier research, it takes about one thousand parts chlorine per million parts oxygen to be fatal within an appreciably short time scale; anything less than that, and while it might be painful and debilitating I have no doubt Hinoko would be able to escape the building with her life and her lackies intact. I have no idea how that number lines up to what the stock before me could produce, but I figured if I poured enough straight onto her, it would soak into her clothes and hair and hopefully produce a lethal amount of gas even if she ran.

To hedge my bets, I first tested how many bottles I could carry up the ladder comfortably -which I found to be four, two bottles of each- before dumping the remaining bottles directly into a vent. Sickly green gas began leaking from the rusty grate, with the majority hopefully being pulled along by the ac to to spread throughout the facility. With two bottles in either hand and deadly gas slowly filtering into the air vents, I climbed carefully up into the rafters and began crawling my way towards the cafeteria.

I could hear mild complaints about a foul smell filtering up to me through the drop ceiling by the time I managed to reach the nearby eater, interspersed amongst coughs and snorts. Fortunately, no one had begun to properly panic or flee just yet, likely ignorant to the danger they were in; a failure of the educational institution around us to have them ignorant to potentially deadly hazards, but one that benefited me greatly. With the enemy ignorant to the threat lurking above them, I set my bottles aside and began carefully lifting and peaking through the tiles to find where to aim.

It took me a few tries to locate the proper place, but before long I found myself staring down at Hinoko from above, the fiery girl ignorant to the danger even as a thin layer of green gas swirled around her feet; not very observant of these npcs, but I wasn't about to complain. Carefully, slowly, I uncapped all four bottles, taking them in each hand and holding them over the edge, before upending them into the air.

The initial streams went a little wide, splashing onto the bench and floor around her and eliciting a shocked scream before I adjusted my aim and nailed her with the majority of all four bottles. Even before the noxious chemicals hit the ground, the wildly swirling streams intermixed and released deadly gas intermittently. Just as I'd hoped, the chemicals soaked into her clothes even as they mixed and released toxic green gas in a cloud around her, ensuring every breath she took was tainted even after she jumped to her feet and began running around with screaming.

I felt a grim smile creep across my face as I watched the crowd below panic and run around aimlessly, a feeling of triumph warming my chest even as the horror of what I was doing tried to crawl up my throat. I backed away from the hole in the ceiling into the shadows, discarding the empty bottles off to the side as people began looking for the source of this terror. Some of them noticed where the fluids came from and began pointing and throwing things at the ceiling, but none of them had anything of consequence that could reach me. I could have crawled away, made for the roof or even an exit, but I didn't bother; if this ploy didn't work, my only other option was to risk a direct assault and hope the gas weakened the crowd enough to pull off a win.

Instead, I sat back and watched the results of my actions. Hinoko tried turning her limbs to fire one by one (confirming she likely wasn't able to fully transform) in a desperate attempt to clear the chemicals from her, but chlorine gas isn't flammable and, just like with the mud on my legs, her transformation didn't remove the fluids on her skin (though burning her clothes may have helped somewhat). It wasn't long before she was clutching at her chest and throat, sinking to her knees; doing so only hastened her end, bringing her head lower where the growing cloud was denser. Finally, she collapsed fully to the ground, and from there it was only a few short minutes before her chest stilled and the world began breaking apart.

SUCCESS

Reward: Hinoko Mephsonn +

I sighed as reality faded back in, feeling the ache in my everything grow to a level akin to what an hour of strenuous exercise might produce. Being perfectly honest, I hadn't expected to win that one on my first go like that. Getting lucky with a closet full of deadly chemical was not something I could rely on in the future, but it was a complete validation of the fact that investigating the environment and having seemingly irrelevant information from past challenges can make a huge difference; if I hadn't gone looking for a way to attack from above and known that closest was there, I never would have discovered that cache of chemicals. If I hadn't known that those two chemicals could be mixed to deadly effect, finding them wouldn't have mattered. Little details learned at different times for different reasons, coming together to result in an unexpected victory; just goes to show, you never know what will be useful.

My tired eyes settled back on Hinoko, looking her over for changes; unfortunately, I didn't know her well enough to tell what had been altered, though I could guess she would at least be more positively inclined towards me. A lonely, shivering part of me was satisfied by that, whispering in a chattering, slithering tongue that this was how I could end my eternal ostracization.

A week ago I'd have dismissed the idea, hell even two days ago I'd have rejected it vehemently as an evil shortcut to something that needed to be earned earnestly. Now, the wriggling thought slithered through the dark of my mind unabated, leaving a trail of poisonous ideas in its wake. Why shouldn't I reap the rewards of my sacrifice? Why shouldn't I enjoy the side benefits of the power I sold my soul for? It wasn't like I even could find any sort of companionship honestly anyway, a decade of misery, mockery, and isolation had burned that truth deep into my psyche.

I physically shook off a dream of myself being showered in adulations by all my classmates and teachers. Even if my path led to such a place, that wasn't my goal; all of this was to be a hero! Even if my mind strayed towards thoughts of my female classmates looking at me how my newly corrupted mother did, and even if that thought sent all sorts of tingling, corrosive feelings swirling through my body. Heroism is my first priority, enjoying the… rewards can come later.

Mind still broiling with decidedly unheroic thoughts, I settled my gaze on Hinoko's third challenge.

Hinoko Mephsonn

Dimmed Star 3\8

{ALRT} {HUNT}

That… that was not a good combination, to say the least. Alert to tell them I'm present and Hunt to give them unerring and constant knowledge of my exact location. A straight fight is practically unavoidable as stealth simply isn't an option here. Great.

I was highly tempted to not even try. While the confirmation that she couldn't shift her whole body all at once told me a direct confrontation was not entirely beyond me, the weariness weighing over my body was not encouraging for my chances of actually pulling it off. I wasn't so tired I couldn't walk or run, but I would definitely be at a notable disadvantage going up against a fresh fighter. Hinoko didn't strike me as someone who spends much time fighting, but I was far from a proper expert myself.

I sighed to myself, glancing around the park on the off chance someone new had shown up before accepting the course before me. Victory or defeat, either way I'll have made progress towards holding my dream in my hand. Resolute in my path, I whispered, "Challenge," and watched the world crack apart.

When my power granted simulacra of reality faded into visibility I found myself standing in a dark forest, the ground covered in a thin layer of cold mist already wetting my socks. Silvery moonlight filtered in through the dense canopy above, casting a thousand shadows as it dimly lit up the root choked forest floor. I had never been here before, never even seen a forest like this, and I was decidedly not dressed for the more than faint chill in the air.

Repressing a shiver, I didn't spend long taking in the admittedly beautiful (and more than a touch creepy) scenery. I didn't have the time to waste gawking at unfamiliar trees; Hinoko knows I'm here and where I am, every second I'm not getting closer she's getting further away, or worse, setting traps. That uncomfortable thought in mind, I began jogging forward with my head on a swivel.

Running through the moonlit forest was harder than expected, even discounting the ache in my limbs (I was long used to running tired thanks to dodging Katsuki's impromptu lynchings); the dim light and thin mist masked potential tripping hazards, every step on the uneven, root infested earth was a gamble on whether or not I'd wind up eating dirt. The chill in the air helped manage my fatigue slightly, but the thin mist dampening my clothes quickly turned the whole experience increasingly unpleasant. I was beginning to worry about hypothermia by the time the smell of smoke hit my nose.

I wasn't surprised, not really. By that point I'd been running through the woods aimlessly for several minutes without seeing hide nor hair of Hinoko, I'd have been more surprised if she hadn't started setting the forest on fire. It was only a few seconds after smoke first reached my nose that I spotted a warm glow in the distance ahead of me.

I grit my teeth, scanning what little of the horizon I could make out to try and spot which way the fire seemed to be spreading fastest. Hinoko could start fires whenever she wanted, but she could only do so where she was physically present. While fire can absolutely spread on its own, it was a fair guess that it would be growing fastest in the same direction she was heading and actively starting new fires.

It only took roughly two minutes of observing the fire -while continuing to engage in otherwise suicidal behavior by jogging straight at it- for me to recognize the left side of the fire was spreading faster than the right and, more tellingly, seemed to be headed diagonally away from me. Either she was pulling a rather clever ploy through indeterminate means, or she was running away while spreading fires along her path. I grinned widely, muttering, "Either way, I'll be closer to victory next time," under my breath as I took off running full tilt towards the tip of the blaze.

Immediately after I changed course, the spreading conflagration seemed to slow down notably. My smile didn't shift even as I adjusted course, I fully expected her to react to any attempt to directly pursue her; with the Hunt modifier active, she'd have to be exceptionally confident in her ability to outspeed or outlast me to forgo such a basic trick as doubling back and hiding behind the existing blaze. For as obvious a trick as it was, it was effective; if she went with the most obvious scheme of simply inverting her path and running diagonally to the right, I'd have to run straight through a burning forest every step of the way to catch up. Even worse, if she got clever with me she could alter the angle she ran at or shift course at any point and I'd have no way of knowing.

Theoretically I could run around the fire and try to get ahead of her, but it wouldn't be hard to keep the fire between me and her unless I was significantly faster than her. That was, of course, presuming she couldn't just run straight into the inferno and use her quirk to protect her; given her demonstrated inability to fully shift into flames, that felt like a safe bet, but I couldn't be certain she wouldn't risk it if it seemed like I was catching up.

I was, admittedly, more than a little bit hesitant to charge headlong into a forest fire with nothing but hope to guide me. There were quirks that could trivialize this challenge, sufficient enhanced speed, non-stamina draining regeneration, or even any form of basic fire resistance for instance; unfortunately, I simply didn't have any of those powers. My fire form only lasted five seconds, and even if I got so lucky as to be able to catch up within that narrow time frame, I'd still undoubtedly wind up fighting a better fire shifter in the middle of an active (un)natural disaster.

Without even consciously thinking about it, I slowed down as I got closer and closer to the conflagration until I was standing still a few feet outside the outer wall of the inferno. I knew every second I wasn't running after her she was only getting further away, or encircling me, yet I was hesitant to commit myself to a doomed effort; especially one that was only likely to earn me a drawn out and agonizing death. Sprinting through a raging forest fire after a target that I can't see while she has unerring knowledge of my exact location sounded like a particularly unwise form of suicide; it would be no great challenge for her to dodge my aimless running without giving any sign of where she was, I could wind up running to my death in the complete wrong direction without ever knowing.

All I'd learn sprinting into the little pocket of Pandæmonium before me was if smoke really does kill you before the flames do; not knowledge I really cared to gather first hand.

That thought in mind, I reached out and plucked a two fingers thick branch off a tree. A quick look over the jagged broken off edge showed a distinct, pointy spike jutting out, perfect. I cautiously got a little closer to the ever shifting wall of flames, poking the splintered end of my makeshift spear into the flames to scorch it. It was a trick my father had taught me, before he abandoned… before he left; while fire will happily devour wood outright, it can also harden it with a softer touch.

A few seconds engulfed in the flickering edges of the blaze blackened the soft white insides of the broken branch, leaving them hard enough that a light poke at the tip drew a thin drop of blood. It would have to be good enough, I mused to myself as I stripped the twigs off the other end and jabbed it into the loamy earth below. A flick of a finger proved the impromptu pike was stable enough, so I eyeballed the right distance to make everything line up, took a step, turned around… and, after a moment to psych myself up, let myself fall over backwards.

My aim was slightly off, rather than the near instant darkness of a spike piercing the base of my skull and quickly severing my brainstem, I was treated to the decidedly jarring sight of a bloodsoaked wooden pillar jutting out just beneath my chin. For the few seconds it took for my brain to expire, I was treated to the unique sensation of losing feeling throughout my entire body below the neck (courtesy of a severed spine, no doubt) while rapidly getting colder as the blood loss overtook the crushing feeling of suffocation. It was strange, staring up at the dark and smoke choked sky as darkness crept over my vision, I felt almost claustrophobic despite how relatively open the burning forest around me was.

I almost wished I'd let the fire take me instead, paralysis is a particularly disconcerting condition to suffer through.

FAILURE

HINT: In Alert (ALRT) and Hunt (HUNT) challenges, the Target has unerring knowledge of your location and presence from the start and will react accordingly. You can use this awareness to try and lure the target into traps or prepare a battlefield ahead of time, but remember, the enemy can do the same as well.

I released an explosive sigh as reality faded back in, enjoying the ability to take deep breaths and flex my fingers and toes. A glance showed Hinoko and Maria's challenges both had hour-long timers, though a few seconds of Maria's timer had passed already. With all the potentially winnable challenges locked, I slowed my swing down to a halt and shakily stood to my feet rather than even attempt the others. I had to hold myself up by the thin cables attaching the seat to the frame, letting them take most of my weight as the jelly making up my legs slowly hardened into something usable.

A glance out the corner of my eye showed Hinoko occasionally sending faintly curious looks my way. She hadn't made a move to actually approach, but it seemed one level "improvement" had her less disdainful than she -and everyone else in my school- had been. Katuski was a very… forceful individual, and he had made his opinion on me and quirkless folk in general abundantly clear. Anyone that didn't share his views had been taught very enthusiastically why they should keep their mouths shut and look the other way.

It seemed one dot of my power's idea of improvement would grant a minor physical tune up and make them positively inclined towards me. Not enough so that they would go against their own interests or morals in favour of me -at least not from what I've seen, I'd need more data to be sure- but enough to make them at least not hostile. Mom hadn't shown any… sexual interest until perhaps her third upgrade; she was a bit more touchy and affectionate beforehand, but not in a way that breached familial norms. I could only assume that other people would be similar, though I'd need to see how a wider variety of people act at different levels of corruption to be sure.

That thought sent icy serpents slithering through my guts, the realization that I was so casually considering brainwashing people just to see what the effects would be settling like uranium in my stomach. And yet… I still needed to use my power, and I still wanted to know. I wanted to blame my power for that, wanted to say it was twisting my thoughts like it did my victims… but I was always a curious person, always fascinated with quirks and their potential usage; now that I had a power of my very own, how could I not want to use it?

A few minutes of hanging limply later, and I felt stable enough to slowly walk my way over to a bench at the edge of the park. I spend the better part of two hours simply sitting there, resting as the ache across my body fades. The Mephsonnes left forty minutes after I sat down, none of them approaching me despite the women of the family sending the occasional considering glance. Another small family does show up, but none of them display any notable quirks and have small numbers of challenges; whether that was because they had useless quirks or were actually quirkless, I wasn't sure (though I would readily admit I suspected it was the former more than the later).

Once my exhaustion faded to a more comfortably tolerable level, I decided to complete my original goal of jogging out to the old beach and back. I doubted anyone would be there, the place was more of a junk heap than a tourist attraction nowadays, but it was within jogging distance and was the occasional hang out spot for the more accepted outcasts; people mostly dumped metal scrap there, broken appliances, rundown cars, and the like, so despite being a literal illegal dumpsite it didn't smell that bad. With the salty taste of the sea in the air, the place was deemed alright enough for some people to hang out away from prying eyes.

Not me of course, no one wanted to risk a certain mad bomber blowing their cover and their hidden scrap forts apart for harbouring a worthless loser like me.

It was only a few miles away, though I wound up walking to save energy and thus took a bit longer than expected to get there. It was mid-spring, I had set out relatively early, and the sunlight hours were on the longer side, so I had plenty of time to pace myself. A forty minute jog turned into a eighty minute walk, but I didn't mind; the soreness in my muscles faded slowly as I walked, vaguely validating half-remembered advice gym teachers gave to someone more worthy of their time.

Clouds covered the sun as I arrived at the former municipal beach, the shadowy daylight casting the depressing sight of the ruined seaside in appropriately moody lighting. I looked over the vast landscape of rusting metal and rotting furniture for a few minutes, leaning gingerly on an equally rusted out fence as I did. As I mostly expected, the place was devoid of life beyond the vermin scuttling about the mountainous piles of waterlogged detritus.

After a few peaceful minutes watching the tide crash against the jagged piles of scrap metal, I was about to turn away and start heading back home when a discordant sound hit my ear; metal clanging rhythmically against metal. It was not an altogether unusual sound to hear in a junkyard, but it was also not a sound that could spontaneously occur without outside intervention.

I was curious, but wary; while finding outcasts with potentially useful quirks was half the reason I came here, I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the possibility of running into a strung out junkie in a land of tetanus and premade shivs. Still, if Endeavor backed down at the mere potential of running into a jagged metal wielding lunatic he never would have made it to number two. The fact Endeavor was significantly stronger than me even at his debut was something I conveniently dismissed from my mental math as I boldly crept cautiously through the field of twisted metal towards the suspicious sound.

Walking about through the teetering piles of broken machines was dangerous and unnerving enough on its own, the various discoloured and jagged pieces of scrap taking up most space making just moving about potentially hazardous. However, I narrowly managed not to grievously wound myself as I made my way to the source of the sound. Gingerly shifting some rusty and suspiciously stained sheet metal out of my path, I finally laid eyes on the creature banging metal together; a girl about my age, long pink dreadlocks obscuring her face as she crouched over what looked like a small pile of scrap.

A glance at her lock revealed her identity, and at least partially explained what she was doing all alone making loud clanging noises in a junkyard. She was so invested in whatever it was she was tinkering with, she hadn't even noticed me making the very unsubtle path of pushed over and kicked aside trash I'd carved out to find her. I couldn't tell what exactly it was she was building, her hunched over body blocking my line of sight, but she had a number of very well maintained, and seemingly custom, tools arrayed around her on various flat pieces of scrap.

Hatsume Mei

Mad Inventress 1\6

{HUNT}

My recent less than entirely positive experience with that particular modifier almost put me off even trying this challenge, but I ultimately decided to give it a shot; I may not ever see this girl again, it would be a terrible shame to miss out if she happened to have a useful power. My fatigue had receded enough that I wasn't too worried about being simply outran (unless she was particularly quick, which I couldn't say for sure she wasn't). With an explosive sign, I challenged her without even introducing myself.

I'd prefer the social lubricant of at least one boost before I ever tried reaching out to someone with "mad" in their title.

Reality faded into… almost exactly where I stood before I noticed Mei's noisome tinkering, though this time the beach was deathly quiet and the scrap metal seemed to stretch on past the horizon where the ocean should have been. The very idea of having to search this needle stack for a pink hair without making enough noise (or even just being seen) to set off the target's Hunt assist hit me like a lead bat. Thankfully, before my heart could sink into my stomach and save me the trouble of slitting my throat, a familiar sound hit my ear; the distinctive clang of metal striking metal.

A small smile spread across my face, blossoming into a full blown grin as the noise carried on without pause; she had to be close by or that sound wouldn't be so loud, or so clear. If I had to guess (which I did), I'd say she was roughly around the same place I'd found her in real life. This idea in mind, I climbed over the railing as quietly as I could, lowering myself to a patch of mostly clear sand below.

Traversing a wasteland of jagged metal and rusted out appliances, all set at odd angles rubbing up against (and often piercing through) each other, with anything approaching stealth was a rather tall order. I once more lamented my lack of actual dedicated stealth quirks, though finding such a quirk would likely be difficult for rather obvious reasons; there wasn't even proper official terminology for such powers (as something like invisibility could be achieved by any of the four official quirk types through various means), though I had seen people refer to them as varyingly bluntly "stealth quirks," "sneak quirks," and "stranger quirks," only loosely depending on how they went about their "stealth" abilities. Whereas one could achieve invisibility with an accumulator that sucks in all light (though that might make you pitch black rather than outright invisible), a transformation of the skin that to match whatever was around you, a mutation that made all of your cells translucent, or even an emitter that actively altered people's perception to not notice you, the term of "stranger" could lump them in by their effect (something I, for one, considered more important) rather than their cause.

I knew the problem couldn't be solved quite so easily as it could be summed up as just "acquire a stealth power, stupid Deku," the wrong sort of stealth power wouldn't help at all. For instance, invisibility wouldn't really matter all that much here; the major concern to be found was in making too much noise, though being spotted was certainly a very real threat. No, something like Kemri's smoke form or an outright phasing power would be exceptionally useful; while neither could be effectively labeled as primarily stealth centric powers, both would allow me to move without knocking stuff over and making noise just as well as something like the ability to create a bubble of silence. I would also take the power to outright silently disintegrate everything in my path, I certainly wouldn't say no to the brute force approach if I could manage it.

All that was to say that what took me a handful of minutes to carelessly batter through in real life, took what felt like hours to carefully and quietly pick through in a simulation. The piles of trash were dense and intermixed with larger objects like cars, fridges, and the occasional kitchen sink scattered about like any other piece of unwanted garbage. I felt oddly at home here. I had to, very cautiously, resort to using my fire form to slip through otherwise impassable clogs of garbage, but I did ultimately manage to sneak my way to a very similar position to where I was in real life; standing directly behind a hunched over Hatsume from the edge of a small clearing amongst great fronds of scrap metal, watching her aimlessly tinkering away.

She didn't give any sign that she was paying any attention to her surroundings, much like her real self hadn't seemed to notice my approach even when I made no effort to be discreet. That made creeping up behind her, carefully placing my steps to land in soft sand the same time her hammer hit whatever she was working on. I crouched down to snag a large and solid looking wrench just before I stepped up behind her, taking the tool of creation in both hands and swinging it down on her head.

The first strike disoriented her badly, the protruding maw of the wrench embedding itself shallowly in her skull; two more swift blows to roughly the same place while she was reeling had reality fracturing alongside her skull.

SUCCESS

Reward: Telescopic Vision (1)

That… wasn't so bad, actually. I had expected much worse, but without her taking active steps to evade and kill me, that had gone pretty well. The stealth was a little touch and go, but evidently the few minor creaks and crunches I'd made moving about hadn't reached her through whatever mechanist fugue she'd fallen into. Honestly, with the revelation of her quirk, I was a little surprised she wasn't given an elevated position in an open field or something; I suppose this whole thing could have gone very differently if she actually detected me though, I hadn't really seen her try properly.

Cautiously emboldened by my relatively easy victory, I didn't hesitate to check out her next challenge and accept it with a grin and a whisper.

Hatsume Mei

Obsessive Tinker 2\6

{HUNT} {REAL}

That didn't really seem like it would change that much. If the environment was the same, the only real difference I could foresee was her moving around to find scrap for whatever she was building. That could make things more complicated, especially if she lived up to her title and started making something dangerous right from the start, but my recent display had me feeling pretty good about my odds. Smile firmly in place, I whispered, "Challenge," under my breath and watched the jagged metal forest around me fade away.

Only for another angle on a much more vast jagged metal forest to fade into view. Once more I was stood just about where I first noticed the sound of Mei's tinkering, though this time the noise indicating her frantic creation process was more erratic, changing in pitch, tone, and frequency with no coherence whatsoever. "That would be the Real modifier then," I muttered to myself, "She's moving about and probably actually building something potentially dangerous this time."

Best I go find her before she churns out a death robot or something, then.

Knowing in advance where she most likely was and a decent route to get there quietly made traversing this tetanus-ridden wonderland a bit easier. The scrap metal hills were unaltered, making the same relatively quiet path I initially took just as viable as it was before. Once I neared the source of the shifting tones of metal banging against metal, I took extra care to not make any noises, carefully peeking over what seemed like the roughly severed wing of a small plane in case she was looking in my direction when I reached her little clearing.

She was doing much the same as she had been last time, though now there was a small scattering of random weapons placed haphazardly around her along with the various tools. Matching reality and the previous challenge, she seemed utterly absorbed in her inventing to the point she was paying no attention to her surroundings whatsoever. Convenient for me now, but if my power encourages her to make friends I'll have to take responsibility and try to make her more situationally aware so no one can repeat my methodology in real life.

A few minutes of cautious surveillance gave me no reason to think this would be particularly difficult. The only thing that made this more complicated than the previous challenge was the unpredictable way Mei would stand up at seemingly random to go grab a particular tool or piece of scrap for whatever she was building. There was no clear pattern, save that she tended to work for a longer stretch of time when hammering a bigger piece of scrap into place.

With that thought in mind, I waited as patiently as I could for her to retrieve a particularly large hunk of rusty metal before I stood up and carefully stepped through a decent sized gap in the veritable wall of junk around her sandy clearing. Just like before, I stooped over to pick up a sturdy looking weapon (a claw hammer this time, she was using the big wrench herself) and stepped lightly up behind her before swinging it down with full force into the top of her head.

The claws of the hammer sank into her skull even as the force of the blow caved it in around them, taking a chunk of her brain matter and cranium out with it when I yanked it out. I didn't even need to swing again, reality breaking down before the second blow landed.

SUCCESS

Reward: Hatsume Mei +

Now sufficiently assured I was probably not going to be attacked outright by the junkyard dwelling madwoman, I was tempted to give my aching everything a break and save her next challenge for later; but, ultimately, I decided to check it out. The previous challenges were fairly easy all told, so while I was expecting an escalation, I didn't suspect it would be too bad.

Hatsume Mei

Mother Of Machines 3\6

{ALRT} {LUST}

Ah, well, that was certainly a monkey wrench in my typical plan; still, not being able to even attempt proper stealth was almost liberating in a way, even if it is much less convenient. There's much less stress involved in charging headlong at an enemy rather than sneaking around one, even if the latter is definitely safer. Having less options simplified tactical consideration, at least.

Less confident but still curious, I decided to try out this challenge before introducing myself. One whispered word and reality once more broke down, leaving me back at the edge of the now somewhat familiar infinite beach once more. An immediately notable change that struck me the moment I entered the simulations was the lack of the obvious sounds of Mei noisily tinkering away; that made me instantly uneasy, not needing to guess that this would be significantly harder if she was taking active steps to obfuscate her location this time.

Knowing I couldn't linger in my starting point for too long, I took off running into the scrap heap, stone armour helping me ignore the many sharp edges I'd needed to carefully climb around before; it may not be able to block a bullet very well, but even a thin layer of granite was sufficient to prevent cuts and scrapes from mere environmental hazards. I honestly felt pretty good, there was something liberating, almost childishly delightful in running recklessly through the garbage dump, and I found myself smiling widely despite the danger.

A quick test showed I could indeed slot my newly gained telescopic vision in while stone armour was up; though, the strange transparent brick in my head didn't deform the same way as the steam hair did, warping around the solid stone sliver of power like a glass lamination. The power was simple to figure out; it gave me three options for my vision, normal, two times zoom, and three times zoom. In this relatively confined space it wasn't quite at its best, but it certainly made me a little more confident in my aimless searching.

That confidence lasted approximately seven minutes. Seven minutes after I started the match, just as I moved between two large pieces of scrap (a skinned sofa and an upside down fridge leaning against one another), I caught the faintest glimpse of something gleaming in the artificial sunlight that looked to be almost a mile away. Normally, such a thing wouldn't really stand out as all that unusual in this jungle gym of jagged metal, but most of the junk around here was tarnished and didn't reflect light very well. It was enough to give me pause, my eyes zooming in as best they could to try and see what I was looking at.

I barely made out that there was some kind of shapeless mass around the strange glint, when the sharp sound of air whizzing by unnaturally fast hit my ear and a sharp pain erupted through my stomach. A glance down showed blood seeping out of my shirt, the dark fluid rapidly dying the green fabric crimson. "Oh… I… I've been shot?" I muttered numbly, instinctively reaching down to poke at the spreading wound. The sharp crack of distant gunfire only then reached my ear, the trailing sound of supersonic ammunition smacking into my ears just as a second round went neatly through my forehead.

I was treated to the brief and chilling sight of my own body collapsing over like a puppet with its strings cut from third person before reality faded to black and the failure screen overtook it.

FAILURE

Hint: Targets affected by bloodlust (LUST) will be far more ruthless, efficient, and pragmatic than they ever would in reality, using their abilities in ways they might never think to in life.

It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened, "She must have built a makeshift rifle, and used her enhanced vision to snipe me with it from such a great distance." She knew I was coming, and instead of building some elaborate death robot or whatever her realistic version was going for, she must have built a simple rifle, found an elevated position, and scanned the beach with her zoomed in vision. What I didn't know was what had actually caught the light; presuming she had a much improved version of the power she gave me she most likely wouldn't need a scope, so that probably wasn't it.

"Watch'a wondering about, greeny?" A voice cut through my thoughts, sending me reeling back.

"Gah!" I managed to catch myself before falling over backwards into a pile of jagged metal, barely. While I was distracted, Mei had apparently noticed me and decided to approach. Now, she was standing well within my personal space, grinning maniacally, goggles atop her head while her yellow, crosshair pupiled eyes scanned me up and down.

Goggles… those were probably what caught the light! She wouldn't need a scope, but if she always wore those big goggles they could definitely explain that glint! A small flood of satisfaction flowed through me at puzzling out at least one minor little detail; it wouldn't really make that much difference in my next attempt (presuming I got one), but at least the mystery was solved. Next time, I wouldn't hesitate; pausing to ponder what I was seeing is what got me killed last time.

My somewhat victorious thoughts were interrupted once more, bringing me back to the moment. "Well, ain't cha gonna introduce yourself? You distracted me from working on my babies!"

I blinked, trying to process what I'd just heard. "B-babies?" My voice came out high and unsure, hoping very much she didn't mean what it sounded like she meant. If she was performing some sort of undoubtedly illegal experiments on infants, hers or not, I'd be obligated to try and stop her. My hand crept towards a rusty piece of rebar, hoping I wasn't about to need it.

My racing thoughts slowed dramatically when the dreadlocked rosette held out a strange gauntlet, it was obviously mechanical -visible gears and blinky lights included- but I wasn't certain what it was actually meant to do. Mei gestured with the limp metal hand-shell towards the towering piles of waterlogged junk all around us, "My engineering teacher banned me from the lab after a few too many of my babies exploded into electrical fires, so I needed somewhere else to work and get material from. Luckily. this place turned out to be a goldmine! There's sooooooo much workable scrap and usable machinery here, even some rare and discontinued parts!"

Grinning ear to ear with her too-wide eyes fully focused on the half built metal glove clutched covetously in her hand, her voice took on an undeniably maniacal edge, "My newest baby here will help me harvest raw materials using a grip strong enough to crush iron!" A more than slightly unhinged laugh erupted from her mouth before she frowned, "Too bad my monke- lab partner isn't taking my calls…" Gee, I wonder why.

Her gleaming yellow eyes snapped to meet mine uncomfortably quickly, "You. You could help me test out my babies!" She lunged forward, free hand snaking out to snag my shirt collar.

I reacted on instinct, my own hand snapping up to seize her wrist before it could get near my neck, moving it above her head and allowing her momentum to carry her torso into my own. She was soft, not as much as mom's enhanced body (nor were her breasts quite as large) but still remarkably squishy, with a surprising amount of muscle underneath. She didn't seem to mind (or possibly even notice) our suddenly intimate position, leering up at me with a too-wide grin while her free hand boldly roamed my torso, "Hmm, you're more muscular than expected, but you certainly need work. Still, you're better than my last test subject, so you'll do." Bold! Far too bold! This girl has zero concern for propriety! I wasn't even sure this could be chocked up to my power's influence; she'd only been upgraded one time!

I grumbled, feeling more than faintly embarrassed as I pushed her away. Her power was useful, but for once it seemed her mind might be the true prize of mastering her challenges; if she was able to make even half-way decent support items in a literal dump, I can only imagine what she might be capable of with real equipment. Much as it might not be as glamorous and flashy as the militant part of being a hero, having a good relationship with a support agency could make or break a hero. I couldn't afford proper hero gear, but if I max out this girl she might be able to build some for me pro bono.

For as much as it elicited the feeling of cold and slimy tendril caressing my back, I couldn't just ignore that my power could hand me the logistical aspects of a hero agency on a silver platter. What my power does to people, how it twists their minds and alters their bodies… it churns my guts just thinking about it, but it's also not something I can avoid. Unless I take Bakugou's advice and kill myself, I'm stuck with the power I've got; I may as well reap the morally dubious benefits if I can't avoid them.

I clenched my fist, silently vowing once again to do right by the people twisted by my power.

I scratched the back of my head sheepishly, dodging the question for a moment. "Are… are you practicing to get into a support course?"

Her already wide grin didn't really change all that much, but the mania in her eyes swelled to bursting, "OF COURSE! You're looking at the next big support company CEO in the making! I can settle for nothing less than UA's prestigious support course!" Hmm, so that means that as long as I get into UA I'll probably see her again; with the talent even a few seconds of interaction showed, I had no doubt she'd be accepted.

She would be a useful contact, but I couldn't deny a small, wriggling part of me definitely took her beauty into account. Even now it was more of a struggle maintaining eye contact without letting my gaze flick downwards than even the start of puberty. I suspected my power had a hand in that, it would make sense that a power that seemed designed to deliver a harem into my lap would push me to desire such a thing, but I couldn't deny that basic human nature played a part.

I've always been alone, ever since it got out that I was quirkless and Bakugou started his campaign of terror, the only kind voice I'd ever heard was my mother's; and even then, she wasn't ever fully supportive of my dreams, not until my power… improved her. That loneliness hurt far worse than gaining the many burn scars across my body ever had, and I'd subconsciously given up hope of even having friends, let alone lovers, years ago. Who could blame me for seizing opportunity with both hands when it fell into my lap? Especially when I'd already sworn an oath to… ethically questionable individuals to get it.

Hormones and hopelessness swirled together behind my eyes as I stared into Hatsume's gleaming targeting reticles, unable to prevent myself from glancing at her body; though, I did immediately switch my gaze from the stained shirt barely covering her rather large breasts to the glove still clutched in her hand. Beauty and brains, an undeniably useful combination for a servant ally. A soft whisper bubbled up in the back of my mind, sweet as honey wrapped rot, 'You signed away your soul already, why not enjoy the fall?'

I blinked away the dark thought, focusing on Mei's declaration. I wasn't surprised by her enthusiasm, before a smile tore across my face, "Ha, I'm aiming for UA too! Though, I'm gonna be a hero!" I offered her my hand, selfish desires dancing in tandem with practical needs. "S-since we're both aiming for the same school, we may as well help each other out. Who knows, I may end up being your biggest customer someday when I'm the number one hero!" The words flowed easily, a gut instinct guiding my voice as I tried to appeal to her.

The confident declaration felt almost foreign on my lips and yet struck a far nobler chord within me than the coiling whispers from the cold depths of my soul. Yes, this is mutually beneficial! I'm not just brainwashing her for my own gain, my power also grants health benefits and possibly even a boost to one's powers! Besides, snagging a budding support item engineer to my side would help her out too, her company will be able to slap my face on their ads once I climb to the top!

Besides, I will be the number one; with a power like this, with the price I've yet to even fully pay, I could settle for no less. Honestly, I'd be pretty pissed with myself if I sold my soul to some shadowy cabal for power, and I didn't rank at least in the top ten. With this power though? If I'm not the greatest hero there ever was before long, I'll owe it to everyone mentally mutilated by this cursed blessing to commit seppuku; I'd be dishonouring their (admittedly unknowing) sacrifice if I did any less. I'll either stand atop the ivory tower and gaze upon a grateful and safe world, or I'll open my stomach in the gutters of a rightfully scornful one.

Mei bounced in place, doing interesting things to her bountiful boobs. "Hahahaha! A bold goal! Great, if you wanna work with me I'd expect no less! Now, put this on!" She rushed my once more, grabbing my left hand and all but jamming her supposedly steel crushing gauntlet on it. I smiled faintly at her enthusiasm, though my expression twisted into horror at her next words. "I should have worked out the kinks this time! No more snapping backwards and closing the wrong way; my former partner was such a pansy, couldn't handle a few measly pulverized bones in the name of science!" She grinned up at me, tightening a strap around my wrist, "Now, let's test this baby out!"

Oh boy, I'm already regretting this.

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AN: To the person who asked for shorter chapters, I'm sorry; this one really ran away from me. While I hit a few snags, this flowed fairly well over all. I'm definitely going to be skipping some failed or unimportant challenges going forward, in the same vein as the original. I've also decided on some interesting (and very uncommon considering I haven't once seen anyone go the path I'm planning to) longer term plans for this story, some of which eagle eyed readers may just be able to guess if they look real closely and know their MHA lore. The fight against Kon (pebble boy) is one I spent quite some time (and still kinda am) wibble wobbling over whether or not to commit to giving Izuku different variant upgrades or allow him to yank on people's organs, mostly because of how intensely broken the latter becomes very quickly; as soon as he gains a power that can buff other powers, he goes from giving mild heart attacks and concussions to having an instant win (via ripped out organs) button for almost every fight. Also, I just decided to integrate Worm-style power categories because they're so much better than MHA's garbage ones. The Only True Answer's next chapter is mostly done, so that'll probably come out relatively soon. I also have three other stories I've been tinkering with every so often; one an OC insert into Ozryel from The Strain set in Naruto, one an amalgam of qliphothic souls elevated into a ten thousand year old 2nd gen Tzimisce Apostate (who went around gathering powerful tools and allies and thus has a sizeable cult/harem in a horizon realm) escaping the doom of the World Of Darkness by fleeing through the void and winding up in Jetstream Sam's body shortly before an invasion by the Advent, and another of an OC insert into a Brethren Moon waking up in a Mass Effect/Dark Sun crossover setting. None of them are a major priority, but I do have a few thousand words of their first chapters done so we'll see.