The world had already changed so much in just one week, and it terrified Uraraka. Thousands of heroes were dead, the city was in ruins, and public officials were being arrested or fired left and right. Then the unthinkable happened. On live TV, the Russian government publicly announced they were building a new spacecraft. On any other day, Uraraka would have loved it.
To see humanity reaching for the stars again did nothing but excite her. But now? Now she saw a skyscraper-sized brick loaded to the brim with weapons. A symbol of how violent the world had suddenly become. Or… maybe how that violence was always there, and it was only becoming public now. It was a thought Uraraka didn't want to believe. This was made all the worse when she was allowed off campus.
With an escort of soldiers and bomb-sniffing dogs, she, Asui, Iida, and Akatani were allowed to check up on her apartment and grab whatever she could. Yet when they got close to her building, Uraraka found nothing. The street had been effectively flattened, with every building on the block a pile of rubble. Now as she sat at her desk surrounded by her classmates, Uraraka couldn't help but be downtrodden.
"It's all gone," Uraraka muttered quietly. Every bit of cash she had saved up was in dust. The clothes she brought from home were buried. Practically everything of value she brought to Musutafu was gone.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Jiro commented, her other classmates nodding quietly.
"If you ever need extra money, all you need to do is ask," Yaoyorozu offered, with Uraraka waving her off.
"No no, thank you, but it's fine," Uraraka told her, "I… I'll think of something."
She could get a job, though Uraraka hoped it wasn't necessary. She hadn't been able to reach her parents yet, but she was sure they'd be scrambling to get a new contract in Musutafu.
"Well when you do we'll be going on that shopping spree," Ashido declared, with Asui and Hagakure, though you couldn't see it, nodding next to her.
"That sounds great. Would you mind if I joined? I know a few boutiques in the area," Yaoyorozu added. Uraraka turned toward her.
"Shop where exactly?" Ashido asked curiously, while Asui brought a finger to her lips.
"Well, I heard there's a mall nearby, Kiyashi-" Yaoyorozu began to say, only for Asui to speak up.
"That was bombed, kero," Asui bluntly pointed out, leaving Yaoyorozu in surprise.
"...Ok, but there's also a Gucci-" Ashido began to say, only for Asui to speak up again.
"Robbed," Asui pointed out, "And way out of our price range."
The last comment got another surprised look from Yaoyorozu but she didn't say anything. Instead, they continued to list off stores one after the other. As they went on it became apparent how bad things still were. A store was bombed, a store was robbed, a store had no staff, and a store was cut off from the main city. Even after experiencing everything, it never fully registered to all of them how far-reaching the devastation had been.
To realize almost everything around them was closed down.
"Le Marche?" Ashido asked hopefully, as Jiro and Asui had now pulled out their phones. Both girls scrolled through them for a second before Jiro looked up.
"Owners and staff are dead," Jiro replied, leaving Ashido somewhat downtrodden. There wasn't a store in the city they could go to, assuming they could even go into the city.
"To… to Shizuoka it is then!" Ashido proclaimed trying to stay hopeful, which Uraraka somewhat wanted to agree with. Yet the idea of money just came back to her mind. In this quickly changing world, it terrified Uraraka. What if the Ninth Circle attacked again, except this time they attacked a port city? There was a border skirmish in Ukraine, then the Russian Federation had decried the West for "supporting" villains. It didn't help with the world quickly rearming.
Would that spill out into a war? The idea seemed impossible for Uraraka to believe. There hadn't been a war between nations in decades. To think the possibility of it happening had become real so suddenly. If war broke out… What was she to do? War destabilized trade, it threw entire economies out of balance. If war broke out, what little money her parents had would be gone.
Food, fuel, electricity, the price of everything would skyrocket. There had to be a solution, but Uraraka didn't know what it was. Almost subconsciously turned toward Akatani, the teen busy talking to Kaminari about something Uraraka couldn't hear. Her eyes lingered on the other teen for a moment. She… she could ask him for help. She wanted to, but it felt wrong.
Every time anything went wrong, he was there. He was the solution. When Uraraka didn't have food, he offered her an MRE. When she thought she was lagging behind, Akatani helped her train. Whenever she looked down on herself, he did the opposite. Akatani was always willing to help, and it ate away at Uraraka. It was only ever him solving her problems. So Uraraka quietly decided that this problem couldn't be solved by Akatani. He'd already been burdened with enough of her problems.
Of course, as Uraraka thought this, she didn't realize she'd been staring for a good minute. She only came to when she heard Asui snap her fingers.
"Earth to Uraraka," Asui called out, as Uraraka turned to look back at her.
"Hmm, what?" Uraraka muttered surprised, though she immediately felt that was a mistake. Looking around Uraraka found Ashido with an ear-to-ear smirk, while Jiro looked at her with pity.
"Seems someone's got your attention," Ashido teased lightly, still smirking as she looked down at her friend. It took mere seconds to realize what Ashido was implying, as Uraraka heard the teen laugh. Quickly Uraraka held up her hands in protest, not realizing her face was quickly turning red.
"Wait no! It's not what you're thinking!" Uraraka panickedly told her, though this only made Ashido laugh again.
"Oh? I could have sworn you were looking at Akatani dreamily," Ashido again teased.
"I wasn't! Just got lost in thought!" Uraraka protested, looking around the group for some kind of support. Instead, she found Asui looking at her somewhat skeptical.
"You were staring at him for a while, kero," Asui pointed out, "You hang out with him a lot too."
"Now that you mention it, the both of you are together a lot," Hagakure added, having an unseen cheeky grin.
"That's just cause we're friends," Uraraka countered, only for Ashido to look at her with her brow raised.
"Girl, there is friendship, and then there is never being seen apart," Hagakure commented before Ashido could speak. It caused Uraraka to sputter as she thought it over. Sure they hung out a lot, but that was because they were trapped in the school for a week. And before that, she was trying to get ready for the festival… also she just liked his company. Could you blame her?
It's not her fault Akatani was always willing to help out. Or that he had the same ideas as her. Not to mention he knew how to fight, and Akatani always had food on him. Not to mention it was nice being around DD, or how Akatani constantly tried to help people. Or how he looked cute while he mumbled. Or how he… wait what!? Nope, no, nuh uh. Before the thought could linger, Uraraka mentally shoved it aside.
"We're not together that often," Uraraka argued, before looking around for support, "Jiro, back me up."
"Nope, count me out…" Jiro replied, the girl leaning on her desk, acting like she didn't care. However, she sported a smirk like the rest of the girls, bar Yaoyorozu who gave Uraraka a pitied look. Of course, then Jiro paused for a second.
"Hold it, someone's coming," Jiro commented, the girls looking back at her confused. Quickly Jiro stabbed her jacks into the ground, listening to the apparent noise outside the class.
"Clink of spurs… Ocelot's heading this way," Jiro stated, before adding "With someone else."
It didn't matter to the girls though, as the single utterance of Ocelot had everyone scrambling to their seats. Classes hadn't technically started up yet, but it had become a force of habit for everyone to rush to their chairs. By the time Uraraka could hear the clink of Ocelot's spurs, everyone had gotten in their seats, and Akatani stood in the front corner of the class. Soon the door opened, and Ocelot walked in. And almost reflexively, Uraraka shrunk into her seat, as Aizawa followed the cowboy in.
The teacher looked around the room coldly for a minute, before walking up to the classroom's podium.
"You're all in your seats this time, good," Aizawa commented, "I know classes haven't started up again, but that's no excuse to become disorderly."
No one in the class said a word, instead they all nervously tried to avoid Mr. Aizawa's gaze. Whether the teacher noticed, no one knew.
"That said, I've come to make a few announcements," Mr. Aizawa stated, earning a small gulp from Uraraka. She was waiting for it to happen any moment now. For him to say the class's actions during the attack were illogical. To say they were unfit to be heroes. To expel them for some idiotic reason. Thankfully for Uraraka's paranoia, Mr. Aizawa said none of this.
"First off, with the city in ruins, the principal has decided to implement a temporary dorm policy," Mr. Aizawa told them, earning a small sigh from Uraraka. Of course, it also earned a small amount of surprise.
"Right now a few buildings are being built near the MSF's barracks. They won't be finished for a few more days, but once they are, your class will be staying there for the rest of your academic future," Mr. Aizawa explained, the class slowly nodding along.
"Next up, the staff has elected to allow your families to come and visit," Mr. Aizawa continued, "Should any of you wish to see them, the MSF has volunteered to either fly them here or take you to them."
The offer was immediately enticing to Uraraka, and the rest of 1A as the class began to murmur. She knew her parents had to be worried sick. With all the chaos it had been easy to forget their place in this predicament. And suddenly Uraraka desperately felt she had to see them. Yet as the class kept murmuring, Uraraka slowly noticed something. Shockingly Aizawa didn't use his quirk to quiet the class down like usual, instead, he just stayed silent.
Uraraka expected him to use his quirk any second now, but he just kept waiting. Slowly the rest of the class noticed too, and everyone quieted down confused.
"Final announcement, internships have been canceled," Mr. Aizawa added, leaving the class in a quiet shock. Uraraka knew she should have expected this, the festival had been entirely interrupted after all, ensuring no hero would be interested in sending internship offers. That still didn't mean Uraraka was happy to hear this.
"They're are not enough heroes willing to do internships, and those that are willing, are currently preoccupied," Mr. Aizawa explained. He didn't have to say what the heroes were preoccupied with, it would be impossible for Uraraka not to know why.
"That's everything for now…" Mr. Aizawa stated, getting ready to leave the room. Though Uraraka quickly noticed Ocelot slowly turning to face the teacher. Worlessly Mr. Aizawa stopped and simply looked at Ocelot for a few moments.
"...Any questions?" Mr. Aizawa slowly asked. He… he didn't leave, Uraraka thought shocked. He always left them high and dry before, never answering questions and simply expecting them to figure it out. Slowly Yaoyorozu held her hand up, causing Mr. Aizawa to turn toward her.
"Yaoyorozu," Mr. Aizawa called out, before quietly muttering to himself.
"What will be done in place of internships?" Yaoyorozu asked hesitantly.
"Still being discussed. But, it's likely to be more hero classes," Mr. Aizawa quickly replied, right as Uraraka spotted Kirishima standing up.
"How are Bakugo, Todoroki, and Mineta doing?" Kirishima asked, worry present on his face.
"They're all fine. I don't know when, but all three should be rejoining the class in a few days," Mr. Aizawa answered calmly, before looking around the class. Seeing there were no more questions, he wasted no time leaving the classroom with Ocelot behind him. When he was gone, Uraraka sat at her desk for a few seconds, just waiting. Any second now there would be something they missed. Something to give Mr. Aizawa the excuse to expel them.
She looked around quietly trying to find it. But there was nothing. No logical ruse, no trick, nothing. Uraraka didn't know what to think of it.
It had been days since Bakugo had reawoken. Days since his apparent surgery, since the end of the villain attack. He'd missed so much in such a short time, and when Recovery Girl had caught him up on everything, Bakugo could only feel numb. Now he sat in the infirmary, resting in a bed and looking out the window next to him. Quietly the blond looked down at his reattached arm.
They'd managed to fix it in time but… everything still felt wrong. He focused on making a few small explosions in his palm. His hand struggled to clench and flex, yet nothing happened. Bakugo ordered his arm to lift, but it did so slowly and weakly. No matter how hard he tried his arm just wouldn't listen.
"You should be in good order," Recovery Girl had told him when he woke up, "However, you'll need physical therapy."
The thought was haunting, as Bakugo ordered his arm to move. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true. He wasn't some weakling! Yet his arm continued to struggle against him. It moved weakly or not at all. Eventually, Bakugo gave up his struggle and breathed deeply. Why, he wondered angrily. Why was he so damn weak!? Why did he keep losing to someone quirkless!? Why did a bunch of villains get the drop on him!?
His arms disobedience taunted him with these thoughts, displaying his weakness to all. Even his own body thought he was pathetic. Looking at the disloyal limb Bakugo simply grumbled. Memories of his bleeding arm flashed through his mind over and over. Bakugo tried to fight against it but… he could feel the blood gushing out of his arm. Feel the dirt layered on his face.
His breathing sped up with the crescendo of artillery. He looked around tiredly, gasping for air as he felt bigs of shrapnel push into his chest. He couldn't breathe. He tried desperately, clawing at his chest for air. Yet the artillery didn't stop. Dust flew into the air as the explosions grew louder. Bakugo looked around terrified, gasping for air in pain. He had to get out of there! Mentally Bakugo cursed himself for his weakness, yet couldn't help but look around terrified.
"S-someone…" he called out weakly, feeling a piece of shrapnel whiz by his head, "All M-Might…"
He… he didn't want to die. He couldn't die! Someone! Anyone! Why was he so weak!? Heroes weren't weak! They didn't call on others to save them! But Bakugo didn't care anymore! Again Bakugo was about to beg for help, only to hear a knocking sound. It caught Bakugo off guard as he looked for the source. All he saw was the bombed-out track, continually covered in smoke. But then he heard the knocking again.
Bakugo blinked for a moment before his surroundings came back to him. The infirmary… he was in the infirmary. Not there, it was over, Bakugo reminded himself. As he reminded himself this, he realized he'd become drenched in sweat. Cautiously he kept his palms away from himself, not wanting to cause an explosion. The knocking happened again, though this time Bakugo could hear it come from the door.
"Come in," he called out, feeling his voice oddly weak. The moment Bakugo spoke the door shot open, and in walked both his parents.
"Katsuki!" Mitsuki shouted, a mixture of anger and worry present in her tone, "You damn brat! You had us worried sick!"
Though her tone was aggressive, Bakugo knew she cared. Proven when she rushed over to him, both to hit him over the head, and grab him into a tight hug. His father though was a bit more cautious and looked at his wife with a sigh.
"Honey, he's still healing up," Masaru told her while walking toward the other side of Bakugo's bed.
"I know that, but you know him!" Mitsuki replied, bringing Bakugo into an ever tighter hug, "He always was a tough cookie."
But immediately both parents noticed something was off. Hell Bakugo noticed something was off with him. On any other day, he would have struggled against his mother's aggressive hugs. Yelled that he was fine to fight against any of their care. Yet… he did none of this. Instead, Bakugo felt something wet trickle down his face, as Mistuki looked down on him.
Quietly Bakugo remembered what he thought were his last moments. Riding in the back of an armored vehicle, with explosions going off everywhere. In those moments he didn't nothing but call out for her. He didn't fight against her hug, and in fact slowly raised his good arm, wrapping it around her. For what felt like the first time in years, Bakugo felt himself cry and shuddered in his mother's arms.
"Oh… Katsuki," Mitsuki said calmly, bringing Bakugo closer. There Bakugo let his tears fall, berating himself the entire time. He was supposed to be stronger than this. Yet no matter what he did, he lost. He always lost. Why, Bakugo wondered, why couldn't he win?
It was one thing after another, Snake thought coldly. Whenever they put down one problem, another would inevitably take its place. Now Snake sat in the command room looking over the dozens of photos of his latest headache, the Zhukov Class Interplanetary Battleship. The photos had been circulating all over the web the day after the ship's reveal. In an hour the Musutafu Massacre, though still present in the public mind, had taken the backseat to this ship.
It wasn't hard to see why. The three-hundred-and-twenty-meter tall behemoth was built like a NASA-punk skyscraper, standing up tall as it loomed over everything. This was not an exaggeration. The ship was designed like a building, with the top of the vessel being the top floor. This was by design to utilize thrust gravity when the ship was accelerating. Zhukov was also shaped like a giant hexagonal brick, with a box-like protrusion sitting in the middle of the ship. The widest part of the ship was the bottom half, at ninety-five meters wide and high.
Going up the ship would slowly slim down slightly until you reached the top, where it was still massive sixty-five meters wide and tall. Speaking of the top, it was covered in bits of sensory equipment along with two large engines, most likely for deceleration. On the large box protrusion, were the four triple-barreled 18-inch guns. One on the ship's bottom, one on the top, and two on the ship's sides. Placed in front of the box were three of the six dual-barreled 6-inch guns, with the other three placed behind the box.
On both sides, two of the guns were placed on the angled sides of the hexagonal structure, while a final gun was placed on the bottom side. Also placed on the hexagonal structure were dozens of CIWS guns and vertical launch missile systems. Each weapon was spaced neatly to keep every angle of the ship covered, to the point where no matter how one looked, they'd have a flurry of missiles heading straight towards them and at least six 18-inch gun barrels pointing straight at them. But if there was one thing that stuck out to Snake, it was the sheer amount of radiators covering the ship.
Wherever there was empty space, a flat paneled radiator was put in its place. The only area where this wasn't the case, was at the rear of the ship. Instead, the area connected to and holding the engines had been painted over, displaying the emblem of the Russian Space Forces.
"It's impressive, I'll give them that," Soul commented, the doctor looking over the photos carefully. Next to him was a phone put on speaker, with Strangelove on the other end.
"But does it work, doctor?" Snake inquired tiredly, hearing Soul murmur to himself. The scientist thought over the question, before shrugging.
"...I'm not sure," Soul replied, causing Snake to grumble and Miller to sigh.
"Theoretically it should work. But in practice… well we're just not sure," Soul explained, "I mean this is a several thousand-ton warship they're talking about launching into space. If they've done the math then theoretically it could launch."
"Problem is this is basing it off of other, much smaller spacecraft concepts," Strangelove added, "One of the largest spacecraft NASA ever had planned up was called the Sea Dragon, and it was only ever eighteen thousand tons. Zhukov would be… seventy thousand tons at the least, likely more."
It was shocking to Snake how little that answered. This ship's mere existence brought in an entirely new threat on the battlefield. Zhukov could fly about in orbit knocking out satellites whenever it pleased. At the same time if the MSF tried taking it, or some Russian satellite out of commission with ASAT missiles, then the Zhukov's CIWS guns could shoot down whatever they sent. Yet with this threat, all he could get from his top minds was "Maybe it works".
"If it hypothetically works, then when could it be operational?" Snake asked, watching as Soul again shrugged.
"We're even less sure about that," Soul replied, "It could be tomorrow, it could be six months from now."
"How could you not know?" Snake asked, confused, only for Strangelove to quickly pipe up.
"Because they're not just building a ship from scratch. You can't just dig up any old gun and place it on a ship. They're having to build brand new guns for that ship," Strangelove replied, the woman sighing for a moment.
"Look at the 18-inch guns for example, do you see the small hole on the back of the turrets?" Strangelove asked, causing Snake to look at the photo again. Sure enough, he found the hole. Each battleship cannon had three holes on the back. Now that Snake looked closer he found the same holes on the CIWS and 6-inch guns too.
"Those holes are small thrusters. A normal gun's recoil would launch the ship backwards, or forwards. So they've made new custom weapons to ensure they don't get launched all over the place whenever they fire," Strangelove explained, "And it's not just new guns. Its new missiles that work in space, new suits for their cosmonauts, new sensory equipment, new engines, training up a crew to man everything…"
On and on Strangelove continued to list off equipment, slowly causing Snake's eye to widen. It had prototype greenhouses, the suits needed magnetic shoes, a nuclear reactor to keep everything powered, special exo-atmospheric vehicles to keep the ship resupplied, better oxygen filtration systems, autoloaders for the battleship cannons, and so much other stuff.
"Making this ship operational would be a monumental undertaking. And if they've been working on this for years, then they could have almost everything ready," Strangelove finished, allowing Snake to think for a moment. With everything laid out before him Snake could see the scale of such a project, and what would be needed to catch up.
"We need a counter then," Snake muttered, thinking up ideas quietly.
"What? Like our own battleship?" Miller inquired, surprised, while Snake shook his head.
"No, building something that size would take too long. What we need is something in orbit as quickly as possible," Snake replied. They needed something small but well-armed. Something they could train a crew for as quickly as possible. Something they could realistically get to orbit, promptly. Thinking back to naval comparisons, Snake found an idea.
"Have R create plans for a destroyer, something small but still capable," Snake ordered. They couldn't get a battleship into space, but they needed something. Something in the tonnage of a destroyer would at least give them some decent firepower. Yet Soul looked back at Snake, seeming concerned.
"Not sure we have the budget for that kind of project," Soul told him, with Snake grumbling.
"I'll appeal to Congress to get more funding," Snake replied before Miller clicked his tongue.
"About that Boss…" Miller hesitantly began, as Snake turned to look at him, "Congress is having talks of… defunding the MSF."
The statement left Snake in shock for a second, the man blinking quietly before asking, "When the hell did this happen?"
"A few days ago. Happened after the last presidential debate," Miller replied, with Snake remembering the debate in question, "Senator Klazen is up in the polls. Reports believe it's going to be a landslide in his favor."
Snake… Snake didn't know what to think about that. He'd agreed with Klazen's policy at first, but that was before Zhukov had been revealed to the world.
"Even if he doesn't win, his party managed to gain a majority, and are readying bills as we speak," Miller added, causing Snake to again swear.
"Damn it," Snake muttered to himself, slumping back into a chair. Quietly Snake tried to think over his options, yet no good ones came to mind. Klazen's bill was a necessity for Outer Heaven, but it couldn't have come at a worse time. Even if Snake could do anything to stop the bill, it would be a bad move. The country needed a diversified economy if they wanted to survive.
"We could redirect funds from other projects," Snake decided.
"Wouldn't be enough, we're talking about a space program here," Soul countered, causing Snake to again grumble. Again Snake tried to think of an alternative before Strangelove began to speak up.
"There… might be one alternative," Strangelove hesitantly stated, clearing her throat briefly after.
"We… could turn to NASA," Strangelove told them, only for Snake to immediately shut the idea down.
"Not an option," Snake angrily told her.
"Snake the US has the resources to get this project going. Not to mention the motive of rearming," Strangelove protested over the phone, while Snake tapped his fingers on his thigh.
"They're also a global superpower," Snake pointed out, "One who has likely been working with the HPSC for who knows how long. I mean you expect me to believe the United States of all countries has been unaware of the crap going on in South America? Someway somehow the US has got ties to the commission."
"President Morrison seemed willing to help us," Strangelove tried to counter, only for Snake to shake his head, even though he knew Strangelove wasn't there with them.
"And that is one man out of an entire government. The President may not be involved, but that doesn't make the entire country innocent. The CIA, the FBI, the NSA, the DOD, the DOJ, the Senate, the Supreme Court, hell the Department of Agriculture could be in on this for all we know. Their pockets are probably filled with the commission's money," Snake argued, despising that this idea was ever brought up.
Call it personal bias, but Snake couldn't trust the US any less. His world's US government was bad enough, throwing away the Boss to save themselves. He dreaded to think what this world's one was like.
"If it comes down to it, I'll fund everything out of pocket," Snake told her decisively, remembering all the money he had saved up over the years. He never had much use for it, aside from putting money into the MSF.
"You're more likely to drain your bank account dry before we have any success," Soul commented, with Snake crossing his arms angrily.
"Not like I use it for anything else," Snake replied, now swiping through the holotable's files.
"Now, where are we on Night Owl's guns?" Snake inquired, before turning to face Miller. The man looked confident yet that didn't stop Snake from expecting another problem.
"Well, our suspicions were right. From what Victoria's found, Night Owl's hiding his arms in museums," Miller replied while swiping through some files, "That said, they're scattered all over the country."
"Making this more difficult," Snake muttered, watching as security footage of a dozen different museums went by. Tiredly Snake sighed as it went on. So much ordnance rested in these buildings, all out in the open. Any actions taken to remove the weapons would be difficult, Snake realized. But… they had to take a chance. The MSF needed some kind of victory against Night Owl.
"This is going to be risky, but I want FOXHOUND units ready to go within a week," Snake ordered calmly, before mapping out the museums on the table. It would be a difficult plan to implement, but Snake knew it had to be done. For if they wanted to succeed, they'd need to steal and destroy everything, in one night.
The world had changed rapidly and in such little time. Governments were in complete panic, and civilians were in terror of another grand attack. And yet Shigaraki didn't know what to think of it. As he sat in the League's bar, calmly drinking some sake, Shigaraki could only feel divided. Hero society was done. It was the full talk of the underworld. Support companies were losing stock, thousands of heroes were dead, and All Might's true form had been revealed to the world.
But it had been the Ninth Circle, not the LOV who'd achieved all of this. Part of Shigaraki wanted to celebrate, to laugh like a madman as everything crumbled. The other part of him wanted to be furious. The world was crumbling, and he hadn't done a thing. What made it worse, was that it made Shigaraki wonder, if hero society collapsed, what then? Whether he causes it or not, what does he do after?
It was his one defining goal, it was Sensei's defining goal. All his anger and hatred had been solely targeted toward All Might and this wretched society. So when it's all gone, what then? Shigaraki had never truly considered it before, but here he was, watching as it all went down. By this point, he found the last of his drink had run out and grumbled to himself.
"Kurogiri," Shigaraki muttered before another glass of sake was dropped into his hand. He took a small sip from the glass, his eyes looking over the TV in the bar. Nearby the news was playing quite loudly, and it only served to annoy Shigaraki more.
"Though talks are still in motion to discuss the structure of the European army, several prominent government officials have already begun sending out contracts for new weapon systems. This comes just after the Russian Federation's weapons expo yesterday," the anchor went on. Because not only did the Skulls have to one-up them, the Russians had to throw their hat in the ring. Unveiling a damn spaceship of all things.
Now nations were thrown into yet another panic, trying to figure out what Russia was doing. Shigaraki didn't entirely care enough to know the details, but diplomats had been going back and forth for hours. Grumbling again, Shigaraki soon heard footsteps walking toward him. Glancing over he found Volcano carefully sitting next to him on a bar stool. The overly large villain leaned on the bar carefully, while Kurogiri got him a drink.
"So… we have a plan yet?" Volcano asked, causing Shigaraki to grumble again.
"Working on it," Shigaraki replied, before taking another sip from his glass. His stunt during the festival had been somewhat of a success. Though the League was nowhere near its pre-USJ strength, they managed to acquire more members. As littered around the bar were a few small gangs that had sworn loyalty to the LOV. They weren't top-tear villains, but thankfully weren't bottom of the barrel either.
However, compared to the likes of the Ninth Circle, or the seemingly endless ranks the MSF kept pulling in, they were worryingly small. Any other circumstance and the LOV would have been a massive threat. Instead they were being overshadowed by groups numbering in the tens of thousands.
"Of course you are," Volcano muttered, swirling the sake in his glass, "By the time we get a plan hero society will be dead and gone."
"It's still got some life in it," Shigaraki countered, annoyed, "With how stubborn people are, I'd wager it will last a few more months."
Though he could be wrong, Shigaraki thought quietly. With how quickly the world was changing, he just wasn't sure. He always assumed that the world would crumble due to himself and Sensei. But now? Now he was in uncharted territory, exploring an unknown area in this chaotic game.
"What's the big man think of all this?" Volcano inquired, earning a slight pause from Shigaraki.
"He's… pissed off about it," Shigaraki replied. In truth, he hadn't heard a thing from Sensei for a week. But considering how he reacted previously, Shigaraki believed his guess was only logical.
"I don't like to admit it, but Sensei's caught on the back foot," Shigaraki added, before slowly scratching his neck, "As it stands, we're an under-leveled party, in a high-level area. And he's not willing to accept that."
Sensei still believed the LOV were big league villains, a threat the world should fear. That the Ninth Circle should fear them for daring to challenge them. Yet Shigaraki could see the opposite. The League was outgunned, not just by actual guns, but by every conceivable metric. The Ninth Circle had willingly thrown thirty thousand men into a costly battle, of which none returned, and still had possibly hundreds more that they kept throwing into small guerilla attacks.
They had stocked up months worth of food and water to last a siege in Musutafu, had hundreds of modified civilian vehicles, had possibly built up hideouts all across the country, had possibly been training for a long time, had radio communications, had medical equipment or training, and had the funds to afford everything. The League had none of this. Should the LOV even try to challenge the Skulls, they'd be bled dry in mere hours.
The Doctor's nomus somewhat helped even the odds, but there were only so many of them available. And that was assuming that the Ninth Circle, or hell, the MSF didn't have a counter thanks to their overwhelming resources. And if there was one thing RTS games had taught Shigaraki, it was that you can't win without resources. The only question was where would they get more?
With the JSDF being torn apart, he couldn't use the same hack the Ninth Circle used. It likely wouldn't work anywhere else either, not with every governmental body looking directly at their armories. Unsure of what to do, Shigaraki looked down at his drink. Staring at the glass, Shigaraki slowly began to think it over.
"Volcano, being a thief, you know where we can find good loot, right?" Shigaraki inquired, before taking a sip from his drink. Volcano looked back at him curiously, while thinking it over.
"I'd say so," Volcano replied, "Why?"
"If the League wants to make a name for itself, we need resources," Shigaraki replied, "I believe it's about time to start grinding."
"Well, heh, I'm sure I can think of a few places," Volcano told him, taking a sip from his drink. Good, Shigaraki thought. It may take some time, but the League would be back on top. Or, at the very least back in the history books. Again Shigaraki was about to drink from his glass, only to feel something force its way up his throat. At first, he thought he was sick, but then an odd slime began forcing its way out of his mouth.
Gagging Shigaraki recognized the quirk and mentally swore as everything went dark. When the light came back to him, Shigaraki coughed for a moment, gasping for air. He always despised this teleportation quirk. Compared to Kurogiri, this method of teleportation just didn't seem worth suffocating for.
"Apologies for the abrupt call, Tomura," Sensei greeted from somewhere, as Shigaraki began trying to look around. Though partly shrouded in darkness, he could see he was in one of the Doctor's labs.
"Sensei?" Shigaraki called out confusedly, "What's going on?"
He couldn't see the man anywhere, instead all he saw were hundreds of vats filled with dead bodies. Thousands of people the LOV had scooped up after the Ninth Circle's attack, for the Doctor's work.
"I've called you to show you something," Sensei replied, his voice echoing through the lab, "A gift if you will."
A bright light showed up seconds later, illuminating a small part of the lab. There Shigaraki found the Doctor working away nervously on one of his projects. Next to him was a large vat like all the others used to store nomus. Only, its contents were different. Looking it over, Shigaraki's eyes widened in shock, as he recognized what was in the vat.
"It's still a work in progress at the moment," the Doctor stated somewhat nervously, as he looked over the vat, "Since this one's been dead for so long, there have been… complications."
The… thing in the vat didn't resemble the other nomus. It was still far too human-like, only with small patches of decayed purple skin covering some of the body like scars. The thing was also much smaller than a nomu, nowhere near the size of any of the monsters. Yet somehow Shigaraki felt those weren't the complications the Doctor was talking about.
"It still has its memories, and a free will of its own. Like most nomus, it can't attack us… however it won't follow orders either," the Doctor explained, causing Shigaraki to grumble slightly.
"So… a less loyal Kurogiri," Shigaraki muttered, before noticing the thing slowly opening its eyes. The thing looked around somewhat tiredly, yet when its eyes found Shigaraki, he quickly became awake. It thrashed about in the vat, fighting against its restraints as it glared at Shigaraki. Furiously the thing tried to fight back. Shigaraki simply watched curiously. At first, he assumed this "gift" was a waste.
A still sentient disloyal monster. Yet looking into its eyes, Shigaraki could see potential. Oh, he remembered this creature's past actions well, and they painted an interesting picture. It displayed just exactly who this thing was. Its personality, what it believed, what it valued, what it hated, and what it wanted. It may not have the loyalty of a nomu, but it has the loyalty of a villain. And when it came to villains, well…
"I'm sure I can work with this," Shigaraki told the doctor, slowly smiling widely as he watched the creature.