Chapter Twenty-Four: Escalation

The games of tag were fun, and Sorahiko had had fun indulging in a little playful needling. Ducati responded well to it, and even in the span of a single day, there was a degree of familiarity, and even a willingness to back-sass on occasion without compromising the respect Toshinori always seemed to glue himself to whenever he was in Gran's presence.

Then again, he had a different goal in mind when teaching the boy back then. All the cuts, bruises, every broken bone he inadvertently dealt the boy under his care. All of it was to get him to a point he might actually survive past twenty. To outlive her.

There had been no time to waste, no time to grieve really. Never was when All for One was breathing down your neck, and the need to carry what Nana had made him promise and forget that she had wrought that promise out of him even before she had died.

However, the time for games has to come to an end eventually, and they come to an abrupt stop. Or he does, at least. Ducati came skidding past him, her footwear not geared for the speed she's now capable of, or the wear-and-tear she was liable put into them. Something for the Support wizards to work on. Later. For now…

"Right. I think that's enough of that."

Ducati hopped, skipped, and finally slowed enough to turn around. "Sir?"

"You're here to learn somethin'. If you spend too much time around me and around this place, you're not going to do too much of that. Don't want you to pick up bad habits, neither. And I don't have the facilities to get you stretchin' to your limits, which is why we're takin' a little trip over to to an old acquaintance."

Walking back inside, Ducati did some cooldown stretches, but her breathing was under control so she asked questions all the while.

"So this friend of yours-?" she began.

"Not really my friend. Not by his reckonin', at least. Just another fellow pro, by the by. We just happened to both know and work with All Might, and he didn't exactly take a likin' to me when we were on the job." Gran snorted at the memory. "But he wouldn't have amounted to much, to say nothing of lasting as All Might's sidekick if he wasn't professional. And his solo career would've been dead in the water if he were incompetent."

"Okay."

"Right. So, when you're done there, gather up your gear. We'll be staying there for a couple of days at least."

[IB]

Izuku crossed his legs and took a deep breath, then let himself fall into the black. This was a conversation long overdue.

"Phaedrus?" he asked.

The tendril and light that represented Limelight flickered, but only minutely.

"Prof, I know you can hear me."

There was no real way to "hide" inside All for One, but Phaedrus was steadfast in ignoring him. Not the least bit surprising for one of the last Quirks to answer his call.

Jon Phaedrus, better known by his colleagues as "Professor", or as Limelight during his time as a vigilante in the American Midwest had been a fairly impressive, effectively running counter-operations against the Quirk Barons of the day with little more than a handful of soldiers and some clunky, but effective Support gear. Arguably one of the first examples of the modern Hero, he had traveled extensively, dispatching the more violent Quirked criminals roaming the land.

All of that had ended in Portland.

Nearly a century into the Quirk era, All for One had stretched his tendrils of power across the globe, and Phaedrus had been devastating his American-based proxies and affiliates. So the old man had come to see to the matter personally. Phaedrus and his Reckoners had given it a good fight, but had ultimately been cut down or forced into hiding.

Needless to say, having his Quirk stolen and then planted into All for One's son had been unpleasant in the extreme, and Prof had never forgiven him for it. Izuku sympathized, which is why he allowed this behavior to begin with. He still wouldn't force the issue. However…

"Listen: I know you don't care much for this arrangement, and frankly neither do I. But if you want your shot at the old man someday to come to more than failure, could you maybe stop holding out on me?"

Prof continue to skulk.

"That shield I popped up during the fight with Kendo. That was your doing, wasn't it."

At long last, "Yes."

"Okay. With your permission, I'd like to experiment with your Quirk. If you're in the mood to offer any pointers, I would greatly appreciate it."

"I'll think about it." And Limelight's connection winked out.

And not a moment too soon, as Nighteye was knocking on the door. "Midoriya."

"Sir Nighteye. What can I do for you?"

"I have a colleague that will be joining us for the remainder of the week. Until he arrives, I was hoping to you would be interested in a series of exercises this afternoon. Your portfolio already indicates a degree of competence in analysis.

"I like to dabble."

"Then perhaps you would be interested in a proper assessment of skills. There is only so much than can be gleaned from second-hand accounts and hobbyist efforts, you understand."

Izuku blinked once, then twice, and then nodded, standing "Right. Lead on, Sensei."

Following his teacher for the week, it hadn't taken Izuku long to become acquainted with Nighteye's office, or his employees. In an almost alarming contrast, the sidekicks and supporting staff all exuded bright, peppiness, a zeal and pleasure in carrying out their tasks. Animated chatter flittered in from every corner where someone wasn't immediately occupied with their work, or multi-tasking as able to do it anyway.

"I don't like him," Nana grumbled.

It's not like I blame him, Izuku thought back, I'm an unknown, and with the chance of All for One being on the loose, he wants to have everything on the table as soon as possible. Kind of wish he'd come out and say it, though. Skip right to the big reveal.

"Pfft! That would mean admitting he doesn't have all the answers. He strikes me as a control freak. I don't know where Toshi found him, but I'd love to give him a piece of my mind. I mean, whatever happened to 'innocent until proven guilty'?"

In the strictest of technicalities, I'm not precisely innocent.

"Not the point, bean sprout. Just…don't let him make you make the stupid mistake."

A smile threatened to break across Izuku's face. Oh, I have zero intentions of doing so.

Nana gave a low hum of approval before her connection winked out, just as the lights to the next room

"This is the records room. Virtually every case this agency has solved, or was involved with is archived here, as well as number of hypothetical scenarios."

Izuku looked up and down the aisle. "I'm guessing all of these have since been made known to the public in some form or fashion?" he asked as his eyes wandered. "Wouldn't want to accidentally read something I'm not cleared to see."

"No, but some of them are highly obscured, so I trust your own...enthusiasm for studying Heroes will not prove a hindrence in the efficacy of your time here."

"Okay, then. Hit me with your best shot."

Said exercise happened to be a fifteen minute stretch of video, made up of several different angles. Not impossible, but theoretically difficult.

Trial by fire, truly, Izuku thought, wryly.

It had taken a considerable amount of willpower not to laugh as Nighteye's stare burned into the back of his head, waiting for a slip-up or a clear demonstration of a Quirk that didn't fit his established skillset. Unfortunately, Izuku needed nothing of the sort, and that just seemed to make the man's blood pressure and cortisol levels spike. Handing a write-up of his analysis somehow made it worse.

"Let us try another video," Nighteye almost ground out, before reeling the tension back in.

[IB]

Stain watched from the streets as the false heroes scoured the streets for him, amused by how their search patterns always led them through the most visible parts of town. Where the crowds were thickest. Predictable, but also convenient, as it gave him plenty of cover to stalk his prey and observe their behavior.

A rush of air nearby set the Hero-Killer's teeth on edge. Reaching for his short blades, he shifted slightly to observe the newcomers' approach. A woman with long, brown hair and drill-shaped fingers accompanied by a tall, lanky man with a scarf covering his neck and mouth, only just covering a bloodthirsty smile. Digzone and Megalodon, two of the known members of the League of Villains.

"My, oh my," Megalodon crowed, "If it isn't the Hero-Killer in the flesh. Hey, Diggs, how much do you think we'd make if we managed to capture him and turn him in?"

"Not enough to save your hide when the Heroes grab you, too," Digzone snapped back, then turned back to Stain. "Besides, that's assuming he doesn't turn you into sashimi."

A shrug, and, "I'm confident in my chances."

"You wouldn't be the first," Stain growled, knuckles turning white as he clenched a hand around one of his hunting knives. "Nor the last. And what's to stop me from gutting you like the traitor you are?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What's with the hostility?"

"You're a Hero who walked away from the righteous path to embrace wanton slaughter for your own pleasure. Your convictions were brittle, and you were found wanting. I should gut you where you stand."

Megalodon leaned in. "Tough talk from some headstrong brat who didn't even complete his education. Going to whine at me from the soapbox? Or are those toothpicks of yours a fashion statement."

"Haemon, zip it," Digzone grounded out. "Boss said to bring him quietly, and that means willingly. So how's about it, Stain? Got some time in your busy schedule for a quick meeting?"

Stain moved his hands from his weapons, but remained vigilant as he nodded. "I will meet with him," And take his measure. "but I make no promises."

"Would've been disappointing if you did."

Digzone snapped her fingers overhead, and a black portal appeared. Megalodon stepped through first, Digzone ushering Stain through before following suit. A sensible arrangement for containment, and Stain's reflexes were set to a hair-trigger in the event something happened.

But nothing did. The other end of the portal opened into an old tavern fashioned after some Western fare. The rest of the place had seen better days, but was swept clean and serviceable. Which made the well-kept wet bar stand out all the more. Some Hero memorabillia had been taped over a dartboard, signs of having seen some judicious usage as a target. The subject matter was hardly surprising, and even drew some approval from the Hero-Killer. Seeing All Might's image defaced did thoroughly threaten to rouse his ire, though.

"Took you two long enough," a scratchy voice rasped.

To Stain's own surprise, he hadn't immediately noticed Shigaraki at first. Despite playing on a hand-held video game with the volume turned up, the young man had been almost invisible until attention had been called to him.

"Sorry, boss man," Digzone replied. "Had to make sure these two didn't get into a dick-measuring contest in the streets."

"Whatever. Feel free to go AFK for now." The sounds stopped, and Shigaraki set the gaming set down. "What'll you be having, Hero-Killer? Kurogiri keeps the bar stocked, so you're not hurting for options."

"Scotch. On the rocks."

A brief nod, and, "I'll take an ice water."

Stain eyed Shigaraki as he approached the bar. The drinks were poured and placed before them, and Stain nursed his scotch. Shigaraki was young. Maybe twenty, unless there were some other effects of his Quirk. And yet there was a bloodied edge, a stench of death hanging over him like a cloud.

Ever since the USJ, Stain had been mildly curious about this newcomer. What were his goals? What did he seek to accomplish. He hadn't really cared enough to seek him out of his own volition, but Stain had the reputation work seeking out. So he would take this opportunity to evaluate him. Perhaps even test his convictions.

[IB]

Nighteye's agency was more and less than what Itsuka would have thought going in. Completely opposite of Gran Torino's setup, to be perfectly honest. It all seemed so plain that if she hadn't seen several Heroes in costume on standby or the obvious signage inside, she might have thought she had gotten lost.

But the interior was warm enough to be inviting. Even the collection of cubicles and office drones managed to evoke a sense of camaraderie by proximity alone.

"Ducati." Midoriya called out, nearly causing Itsuka to jump.

"Hey, Midoriya. I mean, Limelight."

"A pleasure to see you here, but I think we really must stop meeting like this. People might start talking."

Itsuka was fortunate that a blush didn't immediately bloom on her face, but she wasn't sure what to make of it. She had had admirers in the past, but most had the decency to keep their distance or otherwise telegraph more lecherous intents early. This sounded like playful teasing, which, well, she didn't have to feel bad for turning him down on the spot. This was new. Not wholly unpleasant, but certainly new. And whatever awkwardness that would have transpired, Midoriya cleaved through on the way to business.

"So," he said, thrusting his hands into his pockets. "Who is the old codger you're tagging along with for the week?"

"Gran Torino. Apparently All Might's old teacher from back in the day."

Midoriya raised an eyebrow and cast a backwards glance, clearly reevaluating her mentor of the week. "Well. I suppose if anyone knows how to hammer, temper, and hone that kind of strength, it'd be him."

"My dad talked about him a couple of times, but always in the context of being a teacher. So far, I don't think I have anything to really complain about."

"Hm. I look forward to seeing him in action." He leaned to the side, looking over Itsuka's shoulder. "If the grown-ups are done, I think Nighteye has plans to hit the ground running now that you're here."

[IB]

"So what business do you have with me?" Stain asked, his glass topped off once more. "Planning on convincing me to join your gang?"

Shigaraki laughed. "I wouldn't be so arrogant. You're a solo player, I prefer running community games. Besides, it would hamper our respective play styles too much to make it a viable tactic. And I doubt you'd so readily submit to my commands."

"You thought correctly. And I would wager you have no intentions of quietly accepting me as your leader."

"No, I imagine it'd go about as poorly as you working for me. So what I'm proposing is a collaboration, with the possibility of an alliance, should you be so inclined."

"And what is it that you think that I want?"

"A chance to cull the false Heroes, to separate the chaff from the wheat. That's what you want, isn't it? Who could be more of a fake icon than Endeavor?" A folder was pulled from the side and opened on the counter, pictures of Burnin' and a few of Endeavor's other sidekicks moving into an imposing building in the middle of town. A testament of ego and hubris unbecoming of a Hero "He'll be arriving in Hosu within the next three days. Plenty of time to take a peek at their setup and plan the raid, don't you think?"

Time to press him a little, Stain thought, and then said, "An interesting proposition…but what purpose is there in an alliance if you already have what you need for such an engagement?"

"I have plenty of units I can field. Tanks, mostly for taking hits and drawing aggro. But they're not big on thinking for themselves, and there's a degree of presence that bots simply can't deliver. Shock and awe tactics are only good so long as you have forward momentum, and I have a lack of sufficiently leveled characters for this encounter." He flicked up an ice cube from his cup, rolling it over in his hand before casting it into a nearby trash can. "Besides. Anyone can rack up the kill counter. But until you've gotten it into the heads of the noobs hanging out in the lobby that you're running the objective…you're just going to get lost in the noise. And I need a way to convince the masses I have bigger plans than their small minds are comfortable with."

Stain sipped at his scotch. This type of introspection was unexpected from someone who had chosen to attack the most prestigious Hero school in the country as their debut. He could be a puppet. Or just another pawn in someone else's game, regurgitating rhetoric with enough skill to sound charisma.

"Should I accept this…exchange-" and it was an exchange. If Shigaraki thought he could use Stain and his message as a mere publicity stunt, Stain had every intention to exploit him just as much and more to spread his convictions further abroad. "-what would be the plan of action?"

"If you're on board, we just need to figure out where to put them to make the biggest distraction for you. We handle the scrubs and area denial, you get the 1v1 with the Number 2. How does that sound?"

Stain looked straight into the brat's eye. A stare that he met without flinching or averting his gaze. He didn't like Shigaraki. Too much bloodlust and violence lurking behind a thin veneer of sanity, and it burned cold in a way that a boy his age shouldn't have been capable of. Not without seeing some of the seedier sides of society and the rot lurking beneath the surface. From the way he talked, he viewed everything, even his own minions as game pieces to be moved dispassionately into place. A calloused sense of brutal efficiency, perhaps?

Whatever the case…there was still a hunger in those eyes. A desire to build more than a body count. Whether it was a better world or one warped to his vision, that was something to be judged in the battle to come. But for now…

"I think such an arrangement would be acceptable," he said, at last, setting aside the impulse to draw a blade on Shigaraki, if only for the moment. If this test proved the boy's character, he would consent to allowing him to carry the banner forward. If he was found wanting, well…Stain had plenty of experience killing Villains as well as fake Heroes.

"Perfect! I have the maps already in my possession. A more seasoned eye might help see some things I might've missed." Shigaraki stood, and then almost as if an afterthought, "Oh, and as a little side benefit, my mentor has another offer; completely optional, of course. An extra Quirk to assist you. Your pick…within reason, of course. Wouldn't want to risk a rejection."

Stain worked his jaw. He had heard of such a power, but the confirmation that it still existed was a surprise. The Shadow Emperor still appeared to be alive and well. Or well enough to make an offer like this.

"And why would I need to resort to such a crutch?" Stain asked, or conceivably shackle myself to you?

"Even with the team up, there's no guarantee someone else won't butt into your duel. If someone else jumps in, that might shift the challenge to your disfavor. Think of it as an investment, and an open invitation for future collaborations." Hands thrust into his pockets, Shigaraki leaned on the counter once more. "So. What'll it be, Stain? Want to shake the world of fakes to the foundations?"

A/N: Another chapter that kind of exploded in length that I wind up splitting into smaller pieces to avoid overloading.

That out of the way, a little bit of trivia: Jon Phaedrus and the Recokoners are another reference to Brandon Sanderson's Reckoner series, which would probably make a good crossover with My Hero Academia, even with their radically different starts (basically, there are no superheroes, only the villains and everyone else trying to survive around them). David Charleston and Izuku Midoriya would probably become instant best friends on their mutual nerding out over superpowers, but I digress.

I could probably put more into this author note, but there's really not much that needs to be said. But if you disagree on that count, you know the drill: Question? Comments? Concerns? Radical theories you've devised since the last chapter was posted? Let me know in a PM or review. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Until next time!

Winterman, out.