Chapter 17: The First Wave/Beginning of the End
After all that work, it was nice to take a breather. In his well stocked, cozy kitchen, Alex began to mix all kinds of drinks together and see how many different flavors he could make. His best taste-tester was Toshinori, sitting in his living space. He was the ultimate judge on old world mixes versus the hip new party mixers. His once a month check ups became weekly visits. The towering man was surprisingly cerebral, talking of his time in America and social charity services his agency did. Boy, did he ever love asking about the past. Alex shied away from the Outbreak, but talked at length about the kind of culture that existed at the time.
One time, in the cover of night, a few drinks between them, Toshinori even had a heart to heart with him. Obviously the details were very hush hush, but evidently he "shockingly" was a part of a secret government organization. After fighting Mercer, watching over him like an executioner to the guilty, and finally getting to know him, he was deeply affected by him. Toshinori was changed by the experience. Mercer was the man out of time who, if not always succinctly, then at least with ease identified the flaws of society that most Heroes tried to ignore.
But he couldn't any longer. Awestruck by the accomplishments of Mercer and his team, how easily they changed society for the better. What took years for All Might to advocate for and change, Alex Mercer did in barely a year with not a single punch thrown.
He was humbled. And so he quit.
Between a few news reports of upticks of violent crime going up in strange places, Mercer saw more of Toshinori funding or participating in community service junk. Talking with delinquents, sponsoring homeless shelters and so on. His extra work barely hindered his crime-fighting. When you work a job you love, you sure do your best with no rest it seems?
Of course that brought its own consequences. A very personal nuisance. Endeavor had his habit of dropping by, as he and All Might swapped check-ins. Check-ins turned to talking shop about Quirk biology, which then turned into philosophical debates about all matters of medical research. Today, he was ranting in Mercer's apartment between shots of shit sake. He was better at keeping his mouth shut about the important things than All Might, but Alex could recognize what most of his rants were about. A very particular person.
Endeavor-no, Todoroki was livid, fuming, steaming, hot tempered, and smoking mad when he visited Mercer at his apartment, knocking on his balcony in rumpled business attire.
Three guesses why.
Not even three minutes into his visit and he had even less regard for secrecy than Toshinori after a couple of drinks.
Between his aggravation, rants about All Might's personality, habits, Mercer could piece enough of the puzzle together. If Todoroki wasn't married, Alex would believe he had a crush rather than an intense professional rivalry with a certain someone.
It seems like good ol' Yagi understated his position in the covert, clandestine, cloak and dagger government apparatus.
He was the first among equals, the big man on campus. The quarterback, even the team captain.
But as Alex knew, he left. Dedicated himself full time to only heroing, inspired by Alex's actions in changing the world.
Because of him, new laws were slowly being adopted around the world to truly target the root causes of inequality of resource access for heteromorphs, talks of expanded aid or welfare programs were being furiously debated around the country. Formerly fringe movements such as prison reform became a popular talking point, especially in regards to the disproportionate heteromorph prison population issues. The shockwaves of Mercer's team echoed across the world for the better. And All Might wanted to help.
In that absence, Enji stepped up. And the damning thing was that he kept measuring himself against Yagi. With his rival gone, he was #1 in the organization by virtue of being #2, next in line. It was undeserved in his eyes.
An unearned victory. Angry rants about "my undeserved promotion".
"Our work in the shadows did not confer rewards. No one will hear of what we did for centuries to come. The only accolades we recognized was a job well done. Gashadokuro did every job exemplary, and he just left us. Now I am the most senior in completed jobs and experience, but that does not make me the best!" Todoroki was upset over what, automatically being the best?
It was better than being an amoral psycho like you'd find in Blackwatch at least. This was refreshingly human.
"Enji, in whatever club you're in, that's your side project. What you do in the light inspires millions of people. The quality of your work and investigations puts you rightly at the top 1% of Heroes in Japan, the world even. That is something to be proud of!" Mercer tried to placate him.
Todoroki just sneered at him. "There's no triumph in being the best when the top drops out. Being number two in every competition just makes you the best of the worst".
It was clear Todoroki had a complex the size of a mountain. Which is why he was spilling so much to Mercer in-between shots of sake. If there's one thing he beat Toshinori in however, it was holding his liquor.
They drank into the night, Todoroki becoming more maudlin and introspective. He talked at length about his agency, recent heroic actions. Conspicuously, family was avoided.
They sat in silence-the sights and sounds of the city gradually filling the room.
These wonderful days and pleasant evenings would not last. The closing days of the summer was to be the last time any three of them would find joy.
This peace would not last. The sun was setting on Humanity's darkest chapter.
There was a fear Alex could taste. The chemical stink of stress hormones, low levels of adrenaline staining the air. Furtive stares, hurried movements. Alex had heard there was a violent crime wave occurring all across the country as the weather turned colder.
There were no kids or teens out on the streets. Day by day, less and less children roamed until one day, there was not a single child out and about. There were defensive clusters of uniformed police forces, along with Heroes out in force.
Not since NYC had he seen such fear and firepower.
Each day Mercer went to work, the more fear permeated the city like a plague.
People moved in groups, never alone. Businesses shuttered earlier and earlier, an unspoken curfew. Everyone acted like they lived in a war zone, not a densely populated city. The metro lines, the heartbeat of the city, contracted like a fist clenching around a heart. Less and less passengers travelled to the outskirts. It was unnecessary; time at the mall and the movies became unimportant. Humanity concentrated around the centers of society—work and schools. The heart and the brain.
When an explosion of concrete erupted in front of him, it felt like relief.
A hulking mass of flesh. Split open muscles with gorgeous flowers sprouting. Where the eyes once were, bone branches erupted violently. Haunting cherry blossoms sprouted from these branches, a twisted sign of spring in winter. Where there were cuts or bloody gouges, vivid plants bloomed, with the blood a dull addition. Where it walked, the earth split and more plants followed. Its oversized hands had fingers like curved thorns, veritable wooden spears. One police officer was screaming as they impaled through the gut.
People took in it in an instant. The crowd panicked. The next few seconds were screams and stampedes away. A few brave souls took cover and recorded the monster's rampage. The police seemed to swarm out of every nook and cranny, herding civilians away. The rest of them were shooting to kill.
The few heroes on the scene couldn't get close. The hulking behemoth with its terribly beautiful form was like an armored porcupine, strong enough to tear apart anything and anyone near it.
Alex's thoughts raced, his body tense, his arms slowly changing. Like an old master wondering if this was the time to drop his disguise and fight again. Once he went in, there'd be hell to pay, even if it was the right thing to do.
He was about to move when the lumbering figure stopped to swallow the skewered officer whole. It went to a dead standstill, not registering the fusillade of bullets barely penetrating it.
Smoke started to come out of its nose, ears, and mouth. Then it burst into flames. No defiant roars or frenzied screaming came from it. The gunfire tapered off as everyone watched in stunned silence. It stood still as it burned, like a tree standing as it was immolated.
A bewildered pause took hold of the entire block. It was shattered by the yelling of police and Heroes moving fast to secure the scene.
Everything was cordoned off, the police and heroes clearing out several blocks, forcing him to reroute entirely.
Alex grappled with what he saw. Maybe this messed up psycho was high off of Trigger? He'd heard of it and looked it up, but the effects didn't line up with what he witnessed. He had heard how it's able to increase the strength and potency of quirks, regardless of their designation. Trigger could enhance and even transform users, yes, but it didn't make you bulletproof or confer monstrous strength. It could only affect the Quirk itself.
Trigger didn't cause you to cannibalize people, or spontaneously erupt in flames.
The perpetrator seemed far more animalistic than the users seemed to be, as they were usually cognizant.
Of course, there were a variety of Trigger offshoots. Maybe a new formula?
His troubled musings followed him to the train station and beyond. He half-heard reports on the train TV of every crime rate going down except for the spike in violent crime.
RIKEN didn't seem to be affected by the fear of the outside world. Here, they were safe. The personnel acted as they always had in the last few months. A comfortable bubble that popped as soon as Mercer saw the mass of black suits and trucks at his lab.
He stalked over there, his people all being gently herded, equipment and documents carted away. He forced down a cold pillar of rage and marched right over.
It was chaos. Dark-suited men and women, bulges at their hip denoting handguns, spread to every corner of the building. What he presumed to be government agents started herding scientists, personnel, and equipment away. Paper was placed in marked boxes and sent off to what seemed like a fleet of vehicles outside.
There were faint echoes of Blackwatch's purge of Gentek here; at least how they began. Alex forced down a cold pillar of rage that masked his uneasiness as he marched right over.
Upset colleagues congregated around Mercer, telling him every ounce of injustice and outrage they've suffered in the last few minutes. The agent's didn't spare anything. Everything except for the furniture was being loaded into a fleet of trucks. Arguments and yells by the staff were ignored. Every complaint and plea increased his fury. Who were these jackboots trampling over everything they made together?
Violence simmers under tight walls. But he's determined to remain civilized while he tries to figure out what's going on.
One agent caught his eye. He seemed to be the conductor to this orchestra, barking out a constant stream of orders. All of the agents always checked in with him before scurrying off to another area of the building. Alex stalks over, the growing crowd behind him. He's noticed and immediately reported to the head honcho looking agent. He snaps his head over and makes a hasty beeline for Alex.
"What is the meaning of this?" The menace in his words radiated outwards, like a cold snap. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing to watch the showdown.
The government spook looked at Alex and immediately executed a saikeirei bow. Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise. It was the deepest and most formal of bows, used to convey deep respect towards the other party.
And to ask for big favors.
Still bowing, he said "Doctor Alex J. Mercer. Japan saved you, welcomed you, gave you everything you needed to create a new life. Now, the nation is calling in that debt. We need you for a crisis unlike any other. A disaster is in the making. We gave you everything, now we are asking you to repay that obligation. For the sake of Japan, and the world."
Mercer's teams went home as their work and offices were hollowed out. The agents refused to give out their names as Mercer went with them. The meeting was already in progress with the highest levels of government.
It was a chaotic pandemonium.
"I'm getting calls from ambassadors that their countries are already blaming us and China. We both reported cases at the same time, and now it's radiating away from us." The Minister for Foreign Affairs was sweating hard, his corpulent form heaving in the exertion of yelling.
"This doesn't make sense. If the disease came from East Asia, why isn't it spreading across the globe? International travel and speed should mean it should be everywhere. However, it seems to be slowly "radiating" outwards. Japan and China seem to have the highest clusters, followed by, bewilderingly, California and New York. This transmission makes no sense!" An international scientist was teleconferencing. This person often liaised with the Japanese government and was funded lasciviously for information he could provide through his contacts.
"Who cares where it came from? Violence and mass mutations are occurring everywhere! We've got lynch mobs forming!" A Minister of Justice laid out reports of mass violence against heteromorphs who "looked" like the violent mutated victims.
The chief of police for the greater Tokyo metropolitan area cleared his throat. "We are working on a plan to disperse crowds through quarantine practices, telling people the risk for spread will happen if they're outside. Hopefully this will remove all unnecessary movement and discourage protests or mobs."
One of the attendees, a heteromorph, snorted loudly. "Easy for you to say what'll work while people are being butchered out on the streets."
A stern looking woman, Ginko Ogino, head of the Public Health Rapid Response, interrupted the brewing argument. "Ladies and gentleman, our last guest has arrived."
All heads turned towards him, respectfully nodding their heads at his arrival.
Ogino cleared her throat and pointed at new data arriving on the large screen.
"We're getting new cases every hour, and they're slowly but surely, rising higher each day. Nothing works in preventing, inhibiting, or stopping this. Antibiotics, antifungals, or antivirals. For all intents and purposes, once they turn, they're gone forever."
Someone spoke up, a silver headed man looking at a tablet in his hands.
"There's nothing we can see from their family history, Quirk, health or age that explains this. The youngest known case is a sixteen year old, the oldest eighty-two. It doesn't matter if they're a heteromorph, emitter, or transformational Quirk user. The victims are roughly evened up into each category."
An epidemiologist, their badge denoting their area of expertise, spoke up with a map in their hands and several dates around circled areas.
"Now here's what we know. The first reported cases seemingly happened around the same time in Japan, China, and Korea. It's unknown if there are any other cases farther away that also had the first wave happen. We simply don't have the information. What we do know so far, is that the spread of whatever this is seems to almost radiate outwards slowly to other countries. What doesn't make sense, is we now know that there are immediate clusters reported in California and New York. East Asia makes sense in its spread, but both coasts of the United States? It defies all known logic as there are less cases in our neighboring countries than there are halfway across the world."
"Is this even a disease? A bioweapon, released at random? Are Quirks finally betraying us?" Chuckles went through the room, the levity breaking up the dark cloud of tension.
"What do we know? Surely you have something for us?" Everyone was putting their two cents in.
Ogino looked around the conference room, making steady eye contact with all the participants. She took a deep breath.
"Under the Emergency Martial Law Act, which has been activated by the Prime Minister, all legal and medical roadblocks or ethical guidelines have been suspended. If you cannot accept this, please exit the room."
Discontented murmurs went around the room. Alex discreetly asked Miyadai about what this meant. Despite his expertise not being readily applicable to this emergency meeting, Mercer trusted his judgement and quick thinking. Miyadai's eyes didn't move from the speaker as he explained to Mercer why this was a bombshell.
In a quiet voice he said "Back during the brief terror of the pirate warlord, named Buhawi of Manila, he took the island of Amami Ōshima. He brought not only bloody conflict but a terrible epidemic with him. That's why he fled the Philippines after all. He unknowingly brought it there. Hundreds died each day. In response to the occupation and the threat of disease, the Japanese government passed the EMLA. It did what your usual fearful politicians' laws did. Suspension of due process, right to a trial, suppression of the media, your "normal" martial law trappings."
"However, it had additional parts added. It gave the government unlimited authority to deal with all chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear threats. They could quarantine a city at gunpoint, take any and all infected individuals or victims for testing and experimentation. Taking loved one's corpses were some of the least of their wrongdoings in their attempts to get a handle on the epidemic."
A few people left quietly. The majority stayed. They all knew the score. Things were going from bad to worse.
Miyadai looked at his hands. They were shaking imperceptibly. "The government must truly be desperate to invoke this."
After waiting a few more moments, Ogino started with some gruesome implications.
"Once mutated, higher brain functions start degrading. Grey matter shrinks, the subjects do not respond to images, words or loved ones. The response is the same when you come near them. Violence."
"From dissections of deceased and sedated subjects, there seems to be greater activity in the amygdala. The "lizard brain" deals mainly with fear, aggression and base emotional processing. We found that while grey matter overall shrinks in victims, the amygdala in fact, grows larger. Further examination of neurotransmitters in the brain and body indicate extremely elevated levels of specific neurochemicals. Norepinephrine, epinephrine, and histamine levels are extremely high. Beyond mutations in the subjects, this is certainly why virtually all victims display high levels of aggression and no pain responses."
Gruesome lab footage played. Some kind of surgery was being performed on a live mutant, who was clearly awake but not moving. As soon as its bonds slacked a little, it immediately started thrashing and managed to disembowel an unfortunate doctor. The footage was cut off after that.
Ogino looked away to compose herself for a moment before continuing, stoic as always.
"However dopamine and serotonin levels are almost nonexistent except for what is required for basic movement. From the field tests, we find two events that correlate with spiked levels of dopamine and serotonin. The first is killing. However-". There was an uncomfortable pause, everyone leaning in. Ogino looked ill.
"The second relates to one of the most disturbing parts. They're eating people. And what's worse is that somehow while eating them, they will have the quirk of the deceased. Mutant, emitter or transformational, it doesn't matter. Esoteric or not."
Shocked gasps and frenzied theorizing took over the room. Many of the scientifically inclined were taking notes like madmen. Paper, tablets, anything they could write or type on was used.
A few minutes and the hubbub died down, the room once again laser focused on her with a new intensity.
She continued. "Also concerning are the lowered sensitivity of nerves for pressure and temperature. The metabolism goes into overdrive, with enough-" A hitch in her words- "available biological material, muscle mass will increase, resulting in increased strength and speed levels. Mapping the Lindahl-Linnaeus test to many of the captured specimens puts them high on almost every benchmark. Jaw muscles in particular will be reinforced and extended."
The worst villain gangs that lasted the longest have LL number ranges to put many heroes to shame. Interpersonal conflicts, human error, and emotions were the deciding factor in winning against them. Not going toe to toe. At least before All Might arrived on the scene.
"There is a shred of hope. We've often observed some of these creatures consuming 2-3 people, and then spontaneously dying in various ways. From autopsies and footage, we have determined that the most frequent cause of deaths are metabolically burning out or suffering a severe brain hemorrhage."
"Anecdotally, but promising, are what we've labeled as "Quirk backlashes". Depending on the quirk, opposing quirks or quirks with built-in limits/protections will kill the new user."
Ogino flipped through the powerpoint. "On slide four you'll see a rat heteromorph devouring an individual. What's notable about the victim is that their quirk allows them to turn into ribbons."
On the screen, the mutant spontaneously turned into chunks and cubes, like a cheese slicer.
"Mutations vary between individuals, but consistently mutant type quirks have the most extreme physical digression from the baseline."
"However all quirk categories will receive these similar changes as stated from before."
A voice piped up. "What does this all mean in layman's terms? Keep the discussion as low level as possible."
Ogino sighed. "We simply don't have enough data or evidence to say one thing or another. We're fumbling in the dark."
Discontented murmurs went around the room. What were they to do now?
Mercer stood up. Everyone watched him with expectation. "We need more people. More doctors, researchers, any and everyone you can get your hands on. If we don't all pull together, we'll fail not only the people of this country, but the world."
Beneath Jaku General Hospital, still untouched by the violence, Doctor Garaki is working. Heavy glass tubes hold vaguely humanoid forms, given durability Quirks to survive the next round of implantation. With each successive generation, it's a more stable process.
He spoke to the dark shadows behind him without turning. "Unfortunately, this will be my last batch for a while. Due to current events, we don't want any tainted subjects. More importantly, I've been drafted into a coalition of doctors, researchers and scientists to help address the crises."
Doctor Garaki turned around. "Headed by your acquaintance, none other than Doctor Alex Mercer."
All For One stepped out of the shadows, which is Kurogiri maintaining a permanent portal to his other base of operations. An arrogant smirk dominated his face.
"I suppose I can help. What's the point of ruling a ruined world?"
Attacks were increasing, victims were multiplying, and worst of all, more dangerous and durable "creatures" were coming out of the woodwork. Each new wave required more military-grade firepower. Every nation on Earth was being touched by this disaster.
Everyday increased the weight of expectation on Mercer's team.
Riots were a weekly occurrence. It always boiled over for different reasons. Food shortages getting more dire, energy shortages due to electrical infrastructure destruction or desertion of workers. Cities decayed metaphorically and literally as city employees such as sanitation workers were killed or quit.
Conspiracy theories went into overdrive, fueled by a population often stuck inside. Every house and apartment was a powder keg, every social media platform a spark. Demagogues rattled up fear and hate against new targets. Foreigners, heteromorphs, even scientists.
The day after someone murdered Miyada Shinji, after recognizing him from Mercer's first conference, was the day all essential personnel and their families were moved to permanent government housing.
Many of the permanent foreign scientists and scholarly community who had mingled, being permanent fixtures of Wakō, were gone. Years and decades of living in Japan are undone by less than a few months of disaster and hate. They were especially easy targets, as they lived far from the everyday struggles of the people who resented them for decades.
Crime was spiking, not from the usual "villains" or career criminals, but everyday people succumbing to desperation and anger. Closed shops and a dying economy meant people couldn't afford the skyhigh official or black market rates for basic necessities.
In all the centuries since the emergence of Quirks, never before was the situation ever this bleak. Wars burnt out, genocides could be stopped or escaped, epidemics and pandemics had natural ends.
This? These could be the last days of humanity.
From new first person accounts and from studies of the creature's behaviors, they killed, consumed, and eventually burned out. Packs of them would roam in the same direction, like sharks. But when one of them consumed too much and didn't die, an unseen switch would be flipped. All of the lesser ones would pounce on the "alpha". By the end they'd be all dead, by fighting or the feast afterwards, all those new Quirks killing them in a multitude of new and disturbing ways.
Or the brains being literally cooked inside their own skulls.
As the weeks dragged into months, it seemed that they had no leads or paths forward. Alex was getting so desperate, he was contemplating consuming one of the creatures. But experience with the Amalgamation Abomination, consuming parts of present-day soldiers, instinctively told him that was a bad idea. Just looking at the mutated creatures put him off of any desire to try to incorporate them into his DNA.
And speaking of abominations, what were the odds? The circle of life surprised him even now. This was the second time he was in Japan, trying to stop a plague from destroying human civilization. Of course, the similarities were merely shallow…but, was his luck with islands bad or what? New York City and Japan. Except not even a body of water could stop the spread of whatever this mutating force was.
But things were different from the past, too. He was no longer running around like a thug while Ragland did the science or Cross organized a conspiracy, absorbing every unlucky monster to cross his path. Alex was a different person, a different man, a different scientist. His reluctance to cross the lines went beyond the realm of instincts and the sense of unease. And of course, his government or his peers wouldn't look kindly on consuming the creatures. Alex didn't want to ruin what good he cultivated.
So it all seemed hopeless and drawn out. But Alex had to set the bar and the example for his staff to follow. Admittedly it was unfair with his superhuman physique, but it worked.
Most of the scientific and medical staff refused to sleep with their loved ones. They ate, slept, and toiled away in the same areas. Soldiers in full NBC gear were a constant presence, as much protection as they were a death sentence for any outbreaks.
A fevered type of madness overtook them. They scoured databases, connected with as many foreign colleagues as they could, rapidly exchanging data and results. Everything was shared freely. Even outside of Japan. No stone was left unturned. They examined reams of amateur videos of the creatures, now dubbed "Golems", rampages. Golem dissections, autopsies, and DNA samples were akin to precious gold.
The stress and pressure got so bad that stopping self-harming behaviors from fellow colleagues became everyone's duty. They were all on the edge of falling apart.
At the heart of this keeping everyone together was Alex Mercer. He was the pillar that stopped the ceiling from collapsing. His supernatural constitution had him running tirelessly where others flagged, supporting everyone by sheer willpower. His unflappable and steadfast nature was an example to follow, like a lifeline. His keen senses and perceptions could sniff out cracks in people's foundations, rotating them out of the line or directing a legion of psychologists to target those breaking apart.
He was the glue keeping it all together.
And Mercer knew they were running out of time. They needed a miracle from up high.
Instead, the devil came from below in the form of Dr. Garaki and a very familiar looking "assistant".
The sun was setting when Doctor Garaki arrived. Mercer always took the responsibility of welcoming newcomers to the "war". Being the leader meant he had to take point in discerning where the new talent fit.
And to nip in the bud any ego trips. Scientists, regardless of the century, always had a few consistent character traits. Pride was the top sin.
"Doctor Garaki, chairman of Jaku General Hospital. Your research into Quirk-based healthcare and papers into the nature of Quirks makes you one of our most valued additions." A stern look crossed Alex's face. A few pleasantries always smoothed the next part.
"We have many top experts in their field here, so take this position as an opportunity to not only help, but learn." Mercer's well rehearsed speech, individually tailored to notable figures joining the team, had no outward response.
Not a hair twitch on his mustache, not a single tensed muscle. He was a cool operator with garish sunglasses, the frame gold and the green lenses obscuring his eyes. A simple doctor's lab coat under a black suit completed the picture.
"Of course Doctor Mercer, I believe you'll find that I bring far more to the table than many you've already snatched up. Much more you'll learn from me I'd wager. Just ask our mutual connection."
A familiar looking asshole simply… appeared. Like his eyes before refused to see him, like his ears closed itself off, like all his senses refused to acknowledge that he existed a few seconds ago.
What a showboating prick. The soldiers standing on guard nearby still didn't seem to notice anything wrong.
"Let me guess, Nurse Shigaraki?" Mercer wasn't impressed with his little magic trick.
That got a smile from the underworld boss. "Simply here to fulfill my civic duty, same as all the other impressive people you've gathered."
"And what exactly do you bring to the table beyond getting me fired for bringing in some kind of crime lord?" Obviously he had resources, but Alex wanted to see all the cards he had up his sleeves.
"As always, what man creates by design to be perfect, nature creates by accident. Rather poorly at that. I and my associate, over the last few years, have created beings capable of using multiple Quirks in tandem. And unlike these Golems, short-lived and brutal, my Nomu are completely stable and docile. Perhaps by joining forces, we can get to the bottom of this pandemic before it swallows us whole." The devil spoke, and his right hand man followed.
"More than anyone else, I alone know more about Quirks than any human being alive. In fact, I predicted this!" Garaki's voice rose higher until he was screaming triumphantly, like the world's suffering was an unfortunate side consequence to finally being right. Alex saw an invisible weight leave his shoulders. He looked at peace.
"You need us. We need you to save the world once again Alex Mercer. Gods must be strong." Shigaraki's tone brooked no dissent, only clear authority dispensing divine commandments.
So it was that a monster shook hands with a demon, sealing their pact. Their fates were now intertwined with the world.