Chapter 24: Wolfram's Invasion, Cloud's Retrieval

The lights in the grand ballroom of I-Island's central tower flickered ominously. The air of celebration that had filled the room only moments before turned cold as a blaring alarm echoed across the island.

All Might, standing at the podium mid-speech, froze. His once-booming voice was drowned out by the security system's monotone announcement:

"Emergency alert. All residents and guests are to remain indoors. A curfew is now in effect. Central tower lockdown initiated."

Confusion spread through the room. Guests whispered nervously, looking around for answers.

"What's going on?" one hero muttered.

From the hotel district, Mina Ashido stared out the window, watching as security bots patrolled the streets. Beside her, Tsuyu Asui tilted her head, her usual calm demeanor replaced with concern.

"Ribbit, this doesn't feel right," Tsuyu said, placing a hand on the glass.

Mina nodded. "It's like we're trapped."

Meanwhile, in the business district, Hanta Sero and Rikido Sato were enjoying street food when the alarms cut through the atmosphere.

"What the heck?" Hanta muttered, watching security drones flood the skies.

Rikido tensed. "Something big's happening. We need to find the others."

Chaos Unleashed

Back in the ballroom, Wolfram and his masked legion of criminals burst through the doors, guns drawn and faces hidden behind terrifying masks. Screams erupted as the criminals spread out, corralling the guests into a corner. Wolfram, towering over the others with his imposing frame and metal manipulation abilities, stepped forward. His voice boomed with authority.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he sneered, "you're all now under my control. Cooperate, and no one gets hurt. Resist, and... well, I can't promise the same."

With a flick of his wrist, Wolfram summoned metallic tendrils from the floor, wrapping them around the pro heroes. All Might, Endeavor, and a host of others found themselves restrained, unable to move. The once-invincible All Might gritted his teeth as the bonds tightened around him.

"You won't get away with this!" All Might growled, his muscles straining against the restraints.

Wolfram smirked, stepping closer to the restrained hero.

"Oh, but I already have," he said. "Your precious island is under my control now. And you?" He leaned in, his voice dripping with malice. "You're powerless."

David Shield, standing nearby, raised his hands in a desperate plea.

"Please, don't hurt anyone!" he begged. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't harm them."

Wolfram chuckled. "Smart man. Now sit tight, everyone. This is only the beginning."

Cloud's Mission

Far below, in the labyrinthine halls of the central tower, Cloud Strife moved with precision and purpose. He hadn't cared for the festival or the speeches. His only goal was the Buster Sword, and he could feel its presence growing stronger with every step.

The sudden lockdown hadn't fazed him. If anything, it was a convenience—fewer distractions, fewer eyes.

But as he ascended the stairwell toward the upper floors, the echoes of boots and laughter reached his ears. Villains, heavily armed and emboldened by the chaos, flooded the staircases.

Cloud's grip tightened on his replica Buster Sword.

"You're in my way," he muttered.

The first group of villains spotted him—a burly man wielding a spiked club and two smaller henchmen with handguns. They sneered, clearly underestimating the lone figure.

"Who's this? Some wannabe hero?" the leader jeered.

Cloud didn't answer. He charged forward, the replica sword a blur as he swung it with inhuman speed. The burly man barely had time to raise his club before it was shattered into splinters. A follow-up strike sent him crashing into the wall, unconscious.

The henchmen hesitated, then opened fire. Cloud sidestepped with ease, the bullets ricocheting harmlessly off the walls. He raised a hand.

"Blizzaga."

A freezing blast engulfed them, encasing their legs in thick ice. They dropped their weapons, screaming as the cold bit into their skin.

Cloud stepped over them, his expression cold.

Memories of the Past

As he climbed higher, the stairwell grew eerily quiet. The faint hum of the building's machinery and the distant sounds of chaos above were all that remained.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit him. Cloud stumbled, leaning against the wall as flashes of memory assaulted him.

He saw Barret Wallace, shouting orders as they stormed the Shinra Building. Tifa's determined face as she fought alongside them. The panic, the blood, the endless stairs...

Cloud's breathing grew ragged. For a moment, he wasn't on I-Island anymore. He was back in Midgar, surrounded by death and betrayal.

"Stop," he whispered, clutching his head. "It's not real. Focus."

He punched the wall, the sharp pain grounding him. Slowly, the memories faded, replaced by the cold reality of the present.

Cloud straightened, his resolve hardening.

"I'm not that person anymore."

A Gauntlet of Villains

The next flight of stairs was heavily guarded. Dozens of villains swarmed the area, some armed with quirks, others with weapons.

Cloud didn't hesitate.

A woman with flame-wreathed hands lunged at him, throwing a barrage of fireballs. Cloud dodged effortlessly, closing the distance in an instant. He struck with the flat of his sword, sending her sprawling.

Another villain, a hulking brute with enhanced strength, roared as he charged. Cloud met him head-on, using his speed to evade the clumsy strikes. With a swift upward slash, he disarmed the brute—literally. The man screamed, clutching his wounded arm as Cloud moved on.

Quirks clashed against materia as Cloud used Thundaga to incapacitate ranged attackers and Blizzaga to create barriers. He fought with a cold efficiency, each movement calculated to minimize wasted energy.

But the sheer number of enemies began to wear on him. His breaths came faster, sweat dripping down his brow. Still, he pressed on.

The Final Push

At last, Cloud reached a heavy steel door leading to the upper floors. He could feel the sword's presence stronger than ever, a faint hum of energy calling to him.

But standing between him and the door was a man with metallic arms and a cruel smile.

"You've caused quite the mess, stranger," the man said, cracking his knuckles. "But this is as far as you go."

Cloud didn't respond. He readied his sword.

The metallic-armed man lunged, his fists moving faster than the eye could follow. Cloud barely dodged, the impact of the punches denting the walls behind him.

"You're tough," the man sneered. "But I'm tougher."

Cloud smirked faintly.

"We'll see."

He activated Haste, his movements becoming a blur. The man struggled to keep up, his punches missing by inches as Cloud danced around him.

With a final, powerful strike, Cloud shattered the man's metallic arms, leaving him unconscious on the floor.

Cloud pushed open the steel door, stepping into the upper floors.

His goal was within reach. The Buster Sword awaited, and no one—not Wolfram, not his army, not even All Might—would stop him.

The echoing clang of Cloud's boots against the metal stairs reverberated in the silent stairwell. His breathing was steady, but his thoughts were a storm. Each floor he passed brought him closer to his goal, yet the memories clawed at him with every step.

He pressed his gloved hand against the hilt of the replica Buster Sword strapped to his back, its weight a comforting anchor. It wasn't the same as his Buster Sword—the real one—but it would do for now. The hum of the Materia slotted into his Chocobracelet gave him reassurance that he wouldn't have to rely solely on the blade.

The faint cries and laughter of the villains further up echoed down the stairwell, a cruel mockery of the struggle below. Cloud's grip on the hilt tightened as he climbed, his boots crushing bits of shattered glass and debris scattered on the stairs.

As Cloud reached the 84th floor, a chill swept through him—not from the air but from within. He froze mid-step, his vision wavering. The metal walls around him began to twist and distort.

Suddenly, the familiar sight of Midgar engulfed him. The steel-gray walls turned into the rusted interior of Shinra's tower. The scent of blood and gunpowder filled his nostrils, and the faint sound of screaming reached his ears.

Ahead of him, a familiar figure appeared: Zack Fair, smiling as if he hadn't been struck down so long ago.

"Hey, Cloud," Zack said, his voice warm and steady. "What are you doing sitting around? You've got a job to do."

Cloud's knees threatened to buckle. He shook his head violently, trying to ground himself.

"Zack…?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Zack strode forward, holding the massive Buster Sword in his hands. His features were vivid, hauntingly alive, yet tinged with the melancholy of memory.

"You're my living legacy," Zack said, his smile softening. He extended the sword to Cloud, the blade glinting with a faint glow. "This sword... this is your story now. Don't let it end here."

Cloud clenched his fists, his breathing ragged.

"I won't," he said, his voice trembling. "You'll live on in my memory, Zack. You won't be forgotten."

The vision began to fade, the ghostly remnants of Zack's form dissipating like mist. The cold, harsh walls of the I-Island tower returned, but the weight of the memory lingered. Cloud placed a hand on the replica sword.

"I'm not just fighting for myself," he murmured. "I'm fighting for everyone who believed in me."

Cloud's resolve sharpened more as he continued upward. He no longer hesitated when villains appeared. The first group he encountered was armed with ranged quirks—flamethrowers, ice blasts, and one with a nasty acid spray.

Cloud didn't wait for them to attack.

"Fira!"

A roaring inferno erupted in the narrow hallway, consuming two of the villains before they could react. Their screams were brief as the fire overwhelmed them. Another villain tried to retaliate with a spray of acid, but Cloud leaped forward, slamming the flat of his blade into their face.

One of the remaining villains, a lanky man with a whip-like weapon, sneered at him. "You've got a death wish, buddy."

Cloud raised his hand.

"Graviga."

The air grew dense as the gravity spell took effect. The villain screamed as he was pulled to the ground with bone-crushing force, his body contorting unnaturally under the immense pressure.

Cloud stepped over the fallen enemies without a second glance. He wasn't here to play hero—he was here to finish the job.

By the time Cloud reached the 89th floor, he was covered in soot and blood, though most of it wasn't his own. His breath came in sharp bursts, his muscles aching from the relentless climb. He paused briefly to assess his surroundings.

The floor was eerily quiet. The walls were lined with sealed doors labeled with cryptic symbols and codes—likely labs and secure storage for dangerous technology.

Cloud's sharp eyes caught movement up ahead. Two figures, a young man with green hair and a girl with blonde hair and glasses, were climbing a set of stairs leading to the next level.

"Wait," Cloud called out, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

The two froze. The boy—Izuku Midoriya, though Cloud didn't know his name yet—turned to face him, eyes wide with surprise.

"Who are you?" Izuku asked, his tone cautious but not hostile.

The girl, Melissa Shield, stepped forward, her expression one of urgency.

"Are you with the heroes? We're trying to regain control of the tower's security systems."

Cloud's expression didn't waver, though their assumption amused him slightly.

"I'm not with anyone," he said flatly. "But I've been taking down the villains blocking the way up." He gestured with his head. "Most of them are unconscious now. What's your plan?"

Izuku hesitated, unsure whether to trust the stranger. But Melissa spoke up, her voice firm.

"The villains are trying to access a vault full of dangerous tech on the top floor. We need to get to the control room to stop them from opening it."

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "What floor is the vault on?"

"The 98th floor," Melissa answered.

Cloud's mind raced. If they were this far up already, it was likely their leader—Wolfram—was close to achieving his goal.

"Then you don't have much time," Cloud said. "You focus on the control room. I'll head to the vault."

Izuku stepped forward, his fists clenched. "Wait! You can't take them all on by yourself!"

Cloud met his gaze with an icy glare.

"I've already made it this far alone," he said. "Your heroes are busy dealing with Wolfram's distractions. If I don't stop them now, who will?"

Izuku opened his mouth to argue, but Melissa placed a hand on his arm, shaking her head.

"Let him go," she said softly. "He's right. We need to secure the control room before we can call for reinforcements."

Cloud gave a faint nod before turning toward the next staircase.

"Try not to die," he said over his shoulder, his voice tinged with dry humor.

As Cloud ascended the final stairs to the vault, his thoughts turned grim. He didn't care what was inside the vault—whether it was weapons, technology, or something worse. What mattered was stopping these villains before they unleashed whatever horrors they were after.

Above, the sounds of machinery and muffled voices grew louder.

Cloud tightened his grip on his sword.

"Let's end this," he muttered.