Chapter 48: Another Lesson with Ocelot
Ocelot watched as the students gathered up, looking over their costumes carefully. It was then he realized that yes, he had given himself too much time to prepare. The costumes could be separated into a pyramid of practical and flashy, with the practical ones standing at the top. To make it easy, he started with the practical designs. These had some form of protection on their person.
Be it some small ballistic plates, some reinforced fibers, or a helmet and knee pads. They also had an abundance of pouches for possible equipment. That was about it for practicality though, as the rest of their costumes consisted of baseball gear, a John Wick wannabe, and a walking EOD suit. That last one was probably all right. It had bad mobility, but at least it was tough.
Then came the flashy costumes. They had leather jackets, large wool coats, eccentric capes, and so many swimsuits. Ocelot thought the girls had it bad but then he spotted one teen with only a speedo for a costume! He could only hope the kid's quirk had something to do with bulletproof ness, although the fins on his arms said otherwise. The sadist in him wanted to laugh, but the sympathetic side, as small as it was, decided to keep him quiet.
Quickly getting the show on the road, Ocelot spun one revolver in his hand as he addressed the crowd.
"Now then, today we're going to be having a unique training exercise. All of you are going to work together to eliminate me and secure this briefcase." Ocelot stated as he held up the case in his other hand.
"You have… oh shit I wasted a lot of time," Ocelot quietly muttered as he went over the school's schedule. See, heroics went from around 3:20 to about 4:10, or 15:20 to 16:10. And he gave them half an hour. So, they had twenty minutes of class, or fifteen if he started the exercise now.
"You have fifteen minutes to complete this, or you fail." Ocelot finished as he very quickly began walking into the designated building, ignoring all questions the students threw his way. In all honesty, he probably could have handled that better. But hey, a soldier has to adapt to unforeseen events, and that is what he was going to teach. Reaching the main room, he took a leisurely seat in a big office chair and kicked up his feet on a desk. On the desk was a set of monitors hooked up to hidden security cameras.
Now in position, Ocelot turned on the building's intercom and yelled out, "Begin!"
In seconds a good portion of the students charged into the building, just as he wanted them to. Now, littered all across the building's floors, was an assortment of objects that made the building seem realistic. It was an office building, so it had desks and filing cabinets and whatnot. Everyday things no one would spare a second glance. A pair of students were standing next to one such desk.
Carefully, Ocelot pulled a burner phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. Seconds later the desk the students were standing next to exploded. For the exercise, it was a fake made of Styrofoam, and given an anesthetic gas to knock the students out. It didn't have the explosive force to kill them, but they didn't know that. A slight chuckle escaping him, Ocelot grabbed the mic to the intercom. It was incredible what one could do with some detergents, pipes, and wires.
"Oh, I may have forgotten to tell you this, but I hid some surprises around the building. Have fun."
He snickered as the students devolved into a panic. The more experienced of the first years, kept moving forward, only now being more wary of their surroundings. It was here one group of students caught Ocelot's eye. It was the one he'd seen from the beginning of class, accompanied by the boy with red, green, and blue hair. Curious, he listened to the audio from one of the cameras.
"Look, he's rigged bombs all over the place! We can't just charge forward!" the tall black-haired boy exclaimed.
"As much as I hate to agree, he's right." the slimy boy stated.
"How? All we have to do is run up and grab the case! Easy peasy. Right, Nakamura?" the kid with sawblades asked.
Nakamura? Where had he heard that name before, Ocelot thought calmly, before triggering another IED. It took out four students bringing the total left to fourteen. Looking back, he found the students staring at the kid with red, green, and blue hair. Nervously Nakamura looked anywhere but at his classmates.
"No, we'll lose if we take him head-on," Nakamura muttered quietly.
"Then what do you suggest? We have to get the briefcase somehow."
"I don't think there is a way to win," Nakamura replied as a smirk came to Ocelot's face. It seemed the kid had seen it. This exercise was designed to be impossible to win. It was a purposely chosen maze of a building, with IEDs hidden all over. With the security cameras, Ocelot would know when to detonate and if he needed to escape or if he needed to fight. Everything except for the time limit had been by design.
"That's bullshit, the teachers wouldn't just fail us for no reason." the sawblade boy countered, only for Nakamura to shake his head.
"Well… he isn't a teacher." the black-haired boy commented.
"And he did say he'd put us through hell." the slimy boy reminded them.
"No, there has to be a way to win!" the boy with sawblades shouted.
There wasn't but who was he to tell them that, as Ocelot triggered yet another IED. He got five students that time, although they were being more careful of their surroundings. Several of them tiptoeing around the room thinking something was triggering the explosives on the floor. It was honestly kind of funny for him to watch.
"What about this, I can cut through the walls and make us a path forward. That way we can avoid the rooms with bombs!"
"But we don't know what rooms they're in dumbass." the slimy boy reminded him.
"Your blades won't cut through the walls either," Ocelot stated over the intercom, deciding to create a little more panic.
"He can hear us!?"
"Always could! Now you've got five minutes until the exercise ends, and wait a minute," Ocelot began before triggering an IED. This one knocked out five students as well, leaving only the group of four.
"And you're the last ones left, good luck."
He watched as the students turned pale, or even paler in Nakamura's case. At that point, the students stopped talking loud enough for him to hear. Which they probably should have done in the beginning but oh well. Whatever they were discussing now, Ocelot didn't know, however, they seemed slightly more motivated.
In an interesting turn of events, the slimy boy turned into a puddle of green goo. A bit odd but his appearance did give Ocelot a small clue of his quirk. The puddle inched forward as the students nearby began to follow it. Once the puddle was right next to a bomb, Ocelot triggered it. To his surprise, the puddle of slime seemed unaffected by the anesthetic. Then he remembered, it was a puddle of goo, what lungs were there to breathe in?
Quickly the puddle of goo moved forward, at an alarmingly fast pace. So much so that Ocelot had a hard time activating the IEDs fast enough. The students continued to follow behind, with Ocelot realizing their plan. The slime boy would be a human shield, while the others moved in for support. Then his cameras started going out individually, with Ocelot seeing Nakamura shine something into them and the sawblade boy cut them apart. Confused as to how they found the cameras, he spotted the black-haired boy holding up his hand, before pointing directly at the camera.
Seeing what was happening, Ocelot elected to vacate the main room. Quietly he left out a different exit and listened to the students' reactions.
"He's gone!?"
"Damn it, find him!"
"There's no time!"
Then the buzzer rang, signaling the end of the exercise. Silently, Ocelot went over his plan as he walked away. There had been some small oversights in his "impossible to win" exercise. Number one of which was slimy. Then again, the staff never told him what the students' quirks were. Next to him, the medical robots began moving into the building and soon escorted the knocked-out students to the nurse's office.
Why do they only have one wheel, was Ocelot's only thought on the matter as the only four surviving students left the building. They looked up at him with surprise and annoyance, while Nakamura looked more afraid than anything.
"You made it so we would lose." the slimy boy accused. Ocelot simply smirked back, drawing one of his revolvers from his holster. Spinning it around for a second, he tossed it up and began flipping it in the air.
"Yes, I did. Or at least I tried to," he replied calmly, "Didn't fully expect someone to turn into a puddle, not bad by the way."
"What was this even supposed to teach? How to get stuck in a trap?" the boy with sawblades asked.
"No, you see in this line of work there are unwinnable situations. Times where you're outnumbered, outgunned, have no basic intel, and a vague guess as to what is going on." Ocelot stated, catching his gun with his pinky, "But against it all, you have to find a way to win. I've known someone who has done that repeatedly, and it's someone you'll have to be like in this world if you want to be a hero. So, this lesson was about adaptability and willpower. The ability to adapt to the unknown, and the will to keep moving in the face of defeat."
"Oh…" the boy muttered quietly.
"Did it have to be bombs though? My ears are still ringing." the tall black-haired boy asked.
"Believe me, I could have done much worse," Ocelot told them vaguely, leaving it at that as he walked away.
"Still, be proud of yourselves. You four managed to make it to the end and had me fleeing my office. Hell," Ocelot began as he turned to face them once more. He held up his hands calmly, making a finger gun gesture at them.
"I'd say you're pretty good,"
It had taken three days for Snake and the company of paratroopers to reach Kazakhstan. It was a long cold affair until they reached the flat nothingness of the region's steppe in the early morning. The land seemed to go on endlessly, with only the occasional reed of tall grass obstructing the view. And Snake hated it.
"We're too exposed out here," he muttered, his one eye continually checking the surroundings. It would be impossible to miss anything with how out in the open everything was. But that meant the same could be said for them. Yet extraction was a few hours away.
"If the Showmaster's men were following us, we would have seen them by now," Nagant told him, as the sniper gazed through the scope on her arm. Her arm meanwhile rested on the hood of an L-ATV.
"Not to mention Miller said they were staying put at their base."
"That was before we dropped a couple thousand-pound bombs on them," Snake countered, "and if not the Showmaster's guys, then it could be the Russians."
"We're not in Russia anymore, you think they'd risk an international incident by chasing us down?"
"You think they care? If the HPSC learned that it was us they were going after, then the hypothetical incident would never reach the news."
"Wouldn't it?" Nagant started, "After all we have a hundred kids with us as eyewitnesses, and most likely a lot of trigger-happy parents waiting to see them safe. With one of said parents being the President of Poland."
"Heh can't fault your logic there. Still, keep a lookout just in case." Snake told her, before turning away. At the moment they had set up a small base camp, which in actuality, consisted of the L-ATVs forming a circle. Inside the circle most of the soldiers were taking a break, their feet still sore from the long march. A few, however, still kept watch of the surrounding area, most taking the gunner position in the L-ATVs. The kids, meanwhile, clumped together in small groups.
Some played, although the games were more quiet restrained affairs, which was understandable after the "game" they had gone through. The rest remained quiet and noticeably distant. They stared out at nothing, only coming back when someone shook them out of their thoughts. It was sad for him to see. He couldn't do anything for them, not now at least. Not out here. So, he walked forward to the center of the camp, the smell of something being cooked reaching him.
There a couple of soldiers sat around heating a few MREs. The food didn't look all that appealing, the best option being some dried fruit and cold sausages, but none of the soldiers cared. Snake couldn't blame them, as he realized how hungry he was. Three days of nonstop marching and a full day in the Showmaster's base took a toll. Reaching the center of the camp he quietly sat down, before fishing through his bag for an MRE. At the same time, he found the soldiers looking over at him.
"Boss," a few of them greeted. Others simply nodded in recognition or gave him a quick salute.
"Gentlemen," Snake greeted in turn, managing to grab his MRE. Opening it carefully, he put a small pot over a little fire and began boiling water.
"Sir, this may seem out of pocket," a soldier to Snake's right began, "But are you actually from the 1970s?"
"Yep," Snake replied now noticing a look of curiosity from the men.
"Could have sworn the guys were pulling my leg." One soldier muttered.
"Hey, I still don't believe it, no offense Boss." Another commented.
"What was it like back then?" a third asked. Snake paused to think about it for a moment. It had only been four years since Mother Base was transported here, yet it seemed so long ago.
"Hmm, it was not as advanced obviously, but nothing was all that different. Heh, I still remember when we got our hands on a prototype Walkman."
"Now that you mention it, our Idroids seem to resemble an old Walkman." one soldier noted, as he examined the device in his hand.
"Well, it was based on it," Snake stated, gaining a confused look from the soldier.
"It was based on a music player?" he inquired, confused as to why that was what the MSF chose. To that Snake remembered why he had the Idroid designed.
"... I wanted to listen to music on the field," Snake replied, answering the soldier's question. The other soldiers had a brief hint of realization at that moment before
"Fair,"
"Makes sense,"
"I can see it,"
"So that's what this button's for!"
"Wait, a minute," one soldier commented as he began to think on something, "this thing has built-in holographic maps, a database rivaling a phone, can play music, make calls, and can manage our resources like Excel, and it was designed in the 1970s."
"Same could be said about ZEKE," Snake told them, as he found his water ready. His comment left the soldiers around him stunned though. Snake didn't pay attention to it though, instead pouring the water into his MRE and allowing it to cook.
"You know, I think the not-as-advanced part may be a lie Boss,"
"Maybe," was Snake's only reply. The conversation went on for a while longer, with the other soldiers asking their questions until the topic eventually changed. It changed a few times actually, with it going from soldiers asking him for advice, to if he had tried out Mario Kart. He hadn't of course but that wasn't important. Yet something began to stir around them, an odd air of worry. Soldiers began to scramble about as Snake looked around the area. The soldiers he was with soon joined their comrades while he went to Nagant.
When he arrived, he found the sniper looking at something in the distance. A series of black dots flew towards them, but Snake couldn't get a good view of what they were. He assumed helicopters, but who's was the question.
"Any ID?" Snake asked, to which Nagant shook her head.
"I tried calling Miller for confirmation, but he's not answering," Nagant told him. Snake mentally swore at her response. Then smoke flared in the distance, and an L-ATV exploded. The kids screamed as soldiers ducked down behind cover. Those manning the L-ATV's guns tried firing at the helicopters but were cut down by a 30mm autocannon.
Ducking down Snake could hear the painful yells of his men, as two helicopters flew over them. He got a good look at them then, finding the aircraft to be KA-50s. Swearing momentarily, he found the attack helicopters remaining nearby. Soldiers manning some M2s fired up at the aircraft, managing to damage them. But the helicopters ignored the damage, continuing to cut down exposed paratroopers. Then one soldier called out in a panic.
"Enemy contacts, a thousand meters!"
Snake turned back around, looking at the outskirts of the circle. There several MI-26s landed, with dozens of occupants charging out. Taking out his binoculars, Snake attempted to get a closer look at the enemy. They were better equipped than the Showmaster's men, displaying they weren't his. The enemy had AK-12s, RPK-16s, T-5000s, and even 2B14 mortars.
He also saw a commonality between the enemy, they all had something to do with wolves. Bits of their uniforms had fur pelts or a hood made of a wolf's head. Some had a kind of dog mutation quirk or a mutation with dog attributes. And here Snake came to a realization, that these were heroes. They lacked any of the bombastic flair the other heroes had, but they still had the same modus operandi.
An iconic brand appeal that could make money, with that appeal being an almost Rambo aesthetic. There had to be somewhere close to three hundred of them if the helicopters were anything to go by. And they had them surrounded. Snake swore at this as he ducked back behind L-ATV. He narrowly dodged a pair of heroes firing at him but heard the rounds dinging off the vehicle's door.
Nagant quickly tossed him an M4, which he carefully caught. Checking the chamber, Snake loaded and turned to fire. Approaching the outer perimeter was one lone group of heroes. Snake wasted no time and fired a three-round burst at the first one. It struck dead on, cracking through the hero's skull, and dying his wolfskin hood red. His compatriots dropped to the ground in response, before firing back.
They missed a few shots but forced Snake to duck when they cracked the L-ATV's windshield. Quickly Snake moved to the L-ATV's rear and found the heroes still focused on his old location. Taking advantage, he fired and killed a second hero instantly. The third hero surprisingly enough threw down his rifle. It left Snake confused for a moment before he took advantage of the hero's mistake. He fired again, right as the hero's uniform began to tear apart- wait what?
Snake looked on shocked as the hero's appearance shifted over to that of a werewolf. The hero seemed to lose any sense of sanity in seconds as it charged at Snake like a rabid dog. It was fast too, reaching him in mere seconds. Snake barely had any time to react as he brought up his M4 as a shield. The hero clawed through the rifle like it was paper, before tackling Snake. It tried to tear him apart, with Snake narrowly avoiding its claws while he held his ruined rifle up against the hero's throat.
That held the hero back, as its jaws tried to rip off Snake's face. Snake struggled all the while, attempting to kick the hero off of him. But it was strong, barely reacting to anything that hit it. The hero was only taken down when a soldier with a strength quirk grabbed it and suplexed it into the ground. The hero went through a solid two feet of earth effectively being buried from the torso up. The soldier then helped Snake up, while Nagant shot the buried hero in the heart.
That seemed to have killed it but did nothing against the onslaught of heroes surrounding them. Especially as the KA-50s blew up another L-ATV. Slowly but surely, they were losing their transportation. Snake saw one soldier manning an M2 continue to focus fire on one KA-50. The rounds did little but dent the helicopter's armor, yet he kept firing regardless. If he struck the same area often enough the armor would weaken and could eventually break.
But that was cut short as the KA-50 fired a rocket at the soldier. He was killed instantly. Snake could only grumble as it happened, quickly turning over to Nagant.
"How strong is your quirk?" he asked, ducking down as bullets flew overhead.
"Enough to punch through the helos if that's what you're asking." Nagant replied, "But it's too risky. My whole quirk becomes this large fleshy target for every hero nearby."
"Damn it!" Snake yelled before looking out over the area. He activated his codec quickly, opening to every nearby friendly channel.
"Does anyone have a quirk that can deal with the enemy helos!?"
It was somewhat stupid to ask. If they had one, they would have used it by now. But he had to be sure. He was met with a chorus of nos. Swearing, Snake attempted to think up some kind of plan. Some of the L-ATVs had Mk 47 grenade launchers instead of M2s, but Snake ruled those out. Any stray grenade could kill a friendly or a kid. It seemed Nagant would have to risk it.
"You shoot them down, we'll provide cover fire," Snake ordered, before getting his hands on another M4. He hoped he wouldn't lose this one so quickly. Aiming back at the outskirts of the perimeter, Snake found the heroes had gotten much closer than before. But were still exposed out on the open step. He fired, while Nagant got into position. With her rifle quirk at the ready, she carefully aimed at the first KA-50. One wrong shot and it was going to crash into friendly forces.
Overcharging her quirk, she fired the first round. It tore off the tail of a KA-50, with the helicopter quickly spinning out of control. This drew the attention of every enemy combatant though and forced her to run as the second KA-50 fired at her. Its rounds nearly tore through her, were it not for a soldier manning an M2 managing to crack the helicopter cockpit. It stole the enemy pilot's attention for a moment, as it focused on the machine gunner.
With the opportunity, Nagant ripped out a tuft of hair and readied her quirk. Only for a mortar to land next to her. She didn't realize it, but the blast had flung her backward. Shrapnel had torn into her, leaving vicious wounds across her body. It seemed over. The KA-50 killed the machine gunner quickly and moved to kill her. It floated above her, offering a silent taunt as she waited for the inevitable. She expected it to arrive, but the KA-50 began flying back. It shot out flares before a missile struck into the aircraft's side. Seconds later more missiles crashed into the surrounding heroes, as three F-35s flew by overhead.
Snake looked up at the aircraft confused, knowing without a doubt they were not MSF. The sound of helicopters became present again, and Snake readied himself for enemy reinforcements. Instead, he was surprised to find Blackhawks and Apaches flying up to their position. The Blackhawks' doors opened, with what looked like soldiers mounting the aircraft's door guns. There they fired into the crowd of heroes. In mere minutes after their arrival the enemy began to pull back.
The aircraft in the area slowly landed, as the men inside filed out. Several larger helicopters then arrived, mostly King Stallions, and began landing around them. The King Stallions were empty, however.
"Yo!" someone called out, drawing Snake's attention. He found one of the unknown men walking over to him carefully. The man's face was covered in scars, with some only hidden by a thick brown beard. In his hands was an MSBS Grot, pointed at the ground. His helmet had a pair of grayish-green wings painted onto the side and a patch of the Polish flag on his chest.
"You Snake?" the man asked.
"I am," Snake replied, still wary of the newcomers. He saw a few of them walking over to Nagant, the woman now unconscious. He was worried for a few seconds before he spotted the red cross on the men's helmets.
"Apex, top hero of the Hussars." the man introduced, before holding out a hand.
"Poles I assume," Snake surmised, now letting his guard down a little.
"You'd be right. Apologies for not arriving sooner." Apex told him.
"It's fine, I didn't know you were our extraction though," Snake replied calmly, watching as the Hussar's medics tended to Nagant's wounds. One of them lifted their hand, and all the metal shrapnel floated out of Nagant's body. A second medic then had some golden goo form from their hand, which they placed on Nagant's wounds. In seconds the goo would seep into her flesh, and quickly fix up her body.
"It was a last-minute thing, something the President offered," Apex stated, to which Snake turned to face him.
"Well, give him my thanks,"
"I would, but I think you can give it to him,"
Apex pointed out at another helicopter that had now arrived. It was a much more heavily armored Blackhawk, with limited speed and maneuverability for protection. It landed very quickly before someone booked it out of the helicopter. Several people soon followed after him, swearing loudly as they did so. Very quickly a man in a suit ran up to Snake, with the men behind him soon catching up. The man was out of breath but stood tall.
"Mr. President," Apex greeted.
"My daughter where is she?" the President asked between breaths. Snake looked around for a moment, before pointing out at a crowd of kids. He didn't know which one was the President's, but one of them would recognize the face of their father. Sure enough, one did. The girl was sitting on the ground, her legs too burnt to walk. But she did everything she could to wave her father over. He was there in seconds, scooping her up into a hug as both shed tears. After a few minutes, one of the Hussar's medics would approach the two and move the President's daughter to a gurney.
The hero would then move the girl over to one of the King Stallions while the President followed. For a moment the two began to pass by Snake, where the President stopped for a minute.
"I must apologize for my lack of professionalism there," the President told him, before holding out his hand. Snake grabbed it and shook it before the President began walking back to his daughter.
"Can't blame you for it." Snake replied, "I'd have done the same in my case."
"I truly can't thank you or your men enough. If there is anything you need, just ask." the President stated, before the two arrived at the King Stallion. He entered it quickly, sitting right next to his daughter.
"Anything?" Snake inquired, as a few ideas came to mind.
"Well, things that can be approved in parliament and don't violate anything big," the President explained.
"Hmm, I'll keep that in mind," Snake told him, before the King Stallion closed its doors, the helicopter fully loaded. It took off then, leaving Snake standing in the open. At that moment, he pulled out a cigar and lit it. Looking around the area, they still had a lot of work to do. The L-ATVs needed to be extracted, the wounded needed attention, and the kids had to be sent home. At least they had some help now.
"Seriously, what the hell did you guys do to this thing?" Titanium Mastiff asked as he scrolled through the never-ending page on VIC's computer.
"It was left on for a week straight. No one realized until a few days ago." Lion explained. The software engineer groaned in annoyance as he continued to scroll. He was pretty sure the cursor wasn't even moving at this point.
"Well, the best I can do is reboot the system."
"Is that the best option?" Lion asked.
"It's the only option, either that or building you an AI from scratch," Mastiff told him.
"What happens to all the research data?"
"It's most likely going to be wiped."
"Fine, let's at least see what it found at the end," Lion reasoned. Mastiff obliged and clicked at the bottom of the scroll bar. After a few seconds, the computer's fans would begin to sound like jet engines. The screen didn't change at all, still loading as it processed the command received.
"How many simulations did this thing create?" Mastiff asked, watching as the screen kept freezing up every few seconds.
"I'm not sure, that's part of the reason I want to see what it's made," Lion answered calmly.
"Well, however many it is, it's got the damn thing frozen. It's going to take hours, possibly days to reach the bottom if this thing is still running." Mastiff explained.
"Not like we can turn it off," Lion muttered, to Mastiff's confusion and somewhat worry.
"... What do you mean?" he asked.
"I tried turning it off yesterday, but it stayed on," Lion explained.
"Did you pull the plug on it?"
"No, I want the data to remember."
"Of course, you do." Mastiff muttered, "Well, now I'm thinking this could be one of two things. One is what we already thought that this thing created enough simulations to lag the entire system. Two is it being the actions of a hacker."
"You think a hacker took control of VIC?"
"Maybe. If that's the case I'm not too worried, since VIC is set up on a separate network. We'll only know if I'm right later."
There were many things Midoriya found interesting. When he was younger it was heroes, and to a lesser extent, continues to be an interest. He found the quirks they had, the costumes they wore, and even their fighting styles interesting. However, with his training and experiences with the MSF, he found a new interest in military history. And it's tales of great logisticians, generals, soldiers. If Midoriya was to join the MSF one day, then he would have to know of these events.
He would have to study and learn from them. Yet for all that interest, he couldn't help but groan as he read through Mr. Musa's assignment.
"So… if the Market Revolution was what ended the Great Depression… wait that isn't right," Rody muttered nearby, lying on the open rooftop of Mother Base. They had chosen to study outside for no real reason, just wanting to feel the sun on their skin.
"The Market Revolution was in the US during the 1800s, and the Great Depression was a global event in the 1900s," Midoriya explained while giving DD a belly rub. It didn't help with his assignment, but DD seemed to like it.
"Shoot, then what ended the Great Depression?" Rody asked, looking up from his paper.
"For what country? France? The UK? Germany?" Midoriya asked in turn.
"Luxemburg," Rody replied, causing Midoriya's eyes to widen slightly from surprise.
"I don't know." Midoriya answered, "Why did you even choose Luxemburg?"
"I panicked. Everyone else had already taken the good countries." Rody replied to which Midoriya could understand. The assignment the two were working on, was a small paper on what ended the Great Depression in a country you chose. Now the unit was focusing on Europe so there were countries that were expected to be chosen first. Britain, France, Germany, Italy, and Spain had all been chosen almost immediately.
Then there was Switzerland, Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark, and Poland, which was the country Midoriya had gotten. That one had been easy to find information on, but difficult to write down. Not because he couldn't think of what to write, but more of what not to. Rody however was having the opposite problem.
"Can you change countries?" Midoriya asked, "What hasn't been taken yet?"
"I don't know. I mean I could get something if I switched to Romania." Rody answered, with Pina displaying how stressed he was.
"That might be the best option," Midoriya agreed before focusing back on his work.
"Still there has to be something on Luxemburg I can find."
"Well, they were dependent on France and Germany for iron and steel for a time. However, that was partly due to previous economic woes." a voice stated from somewhere. Confused the boys looked around for a moment before finding Nezu sitting on the roof's railing.
"Mr. Principal?" Midoriya asked confused, "Why are you here?"
"He's the Principal!?" Rody called out in a panicked hushed tone. He may or may not have swiped the answers for a test a few times.
"No that's his hero name," Midoriya explained, with Nezu nodding in confirmation.
"It was supposed to be Mr. Principles but the guy who put it into the system spelled it wrong," Nezu explained further before taking a sip of tea, which he got from… somewhere.
"As to answer your question Midoriya, I'm taking a break, and I thought this rooftop looked like a nice spot to relax. However, now I am perplexed by what you two are doing."
"History paper," Midoriya answered.
"Ah history, truly a fascinating subject," Nezu commented, "What do you have so far?"
"Nothing much," Midoriya replied somewhat confused as to what Nezu was doing.
"I'm pretty sure I have even less," Rody muttered. Nezu took a sip of tea in response, before bringing his paw to his chin.
"Well, I don't mean to ruin the work you boys have already done, but you're going about this all wrong." Nezu stated.
"Come on," Rody muttered quietly, with Pina slamming her head into the ground repeatedly.
"How?" Midoriya asked, as he now reread the entirety of his paper.
"Simple really, you're treating this like it's math. A problem that needs to be solved and not what it is: a story. One with many different sides and answers." Nezu answered calmly, "For example in the US, it is commonly debated if the New Deal or World War Two ended the Great Depression. Both arguments have valid answers to the problem, yet both occurred in the story."
"I guess that makes sense," Midoriya replied as he thought it over. Sure enough, he found what he'd written to be lacking a little. It had no real complexity and only one answer, even though dozens of others occurred at the same time. There was no singular answer like in a math equation, yet that's how he'd written his paper.
"Thanks," Midoriya stated, now a little annoyed with himself for making such an easy mistake.
"Oh, it's nothing, the educator in me just can't help itself sometimes." Nezu replied after taking a sip of tea. With that, Rody and Midoriya would finish their assignment quickly, while Nezu looked out at the surrounding ocean.
Chapter 49: A Boring Meeting
Snake took a deep breath as he once again stepped out of the Blackhawk, and stood on Mother Base. After a few days of talking with the Polish President, it was ultimately decided the Poles would handle the rescued children. Snake didn't oppose as some of the kids still had family alive somewhere, and the Polish Government would have a far easier time locating them than the unheard-of mercenary group.
After those discussions, President Nowak was called by Madam President of the HPSC. That was alarming, but Nowak said he had it handled. Snake wasn't entirely sure, that was until Nowak made several promising deals. Of the deals made, Snake managed to get the most Nowak to agree to the most important one, recognition of Outer Heaven as a country, and a few other things. Coming back to reality though, Snake lit up a cigar and looked out at the surrounding ocean waves.
A few minutes later, and with only the stub of his cigar left, he saw Miller walking over to him. Snake took one look at what Miller was carrying and immediately gained a headache.
"Snake, glad to see you made it back soon. That meeting with President Nowak?" Miller asked as he tried to look around the massive pile of documents.
"Went off without a hitch," Snake replied.
"Good, seems we can get started then," Miller stated.
"Started on what?" Snake asked, secretly loathing the question. Miller seemed to share his annoyance, however, it was better hidden with the sunglasses.
"We need to work out a government structure for Outer Heaven," Miller answered, leaving Snake to grumble in response.
"Is this really necessary Kaz?" he asked.
"Do you know how to farm?" Miller asked in turn.
"No, why?"
"Do you know how to manage a mine?"
"Again, no."
"Create a tax code?"
"Kaz, no. Where are you going with this?"
"No one else in the MSF knows how to either. Yet we're expecting to start a country when we know little about governing. So, if we need people to farm, and we have no knowledge of farming, then we could accidentally create another Great Leap Forward," Miller explained. And Snake began connecting the dots. He didn't like it, but the MSF couldn't do everything. They needed to do the hardest part of building a nation, building its rules and systems.
"Alright, I get it," Snake relented. This was going to be a very long day he determined, as he grabbed another cigar from his bag.
"Assemble the command staff, have them ready in half an hour," he ordered.
"Already done," Miller replied as he picked the documents back up. The two began to walk off towards the main command room. It was a short walk, and Snake found all of his officers assembled. Once Snake entered the room fully his eyes fell on the room's main table. What used to be a large wooden table with maps and a few computers, now had a metal table built into the floor. Its top was a glass display with a dark blue hue illuminating its center. Curious, he put his hand on the table and watched as it quickly illuminated like a screen.
"Neat huh," Miller commented, "Something R&D was working on. Took the holograms from the Idroid and built it into a large tactical display."
Snake was impressed. There wasn't anything on the hologram yet, but with a shift of his hand, it switched over to a 3D topographical map. He assumed it was somewhere in Africa since sets of small green and red dots covered portions of the map, which he inferred as friendly and enemy forces. He flicked his hand to switch it back over to the previous form, only for it to switch to a rendering of a prototype helicopter. He tried again but it switched to an overview on the status of ZEKE.
"Seems it still needs a little work," he stated, before turning over to the two heads of R&D. Soul wrote down the event in a small notebook, while Strangelove was busy inspecting a document Miller had passed out.
"We'll get to it soon," Soul told him.
"Time to get started then," Snake commented before taking his seat at the table. Seeing that the table wasn't fully working Miller wheeled out a pair of whiteboards.
"So, first things first, what system of government should we choose?" Miller asked, setting up a few categories on the board as he did so.
"Anybody for democracy?" one officer asked.
"I'd say so. At the very least it would give the refugees some trust in us," Soul stated with a few other officers nodding with him.
"Hold on, if we do that we're giving up a lot of control contract-wise," the newly appointed General Cobra argued, to which a few voices agreed with him.
"You think the people shouldn't have a say in it?" Soul asked, a little confused.
"No, it's just what if there is somewhere we need to be, but aren't allowed to respond because some pompous big wig voted so," Cobra answered. And everyone in the room could see his point. If the MSF got a contract for some humanitarian aid mission, and the people voted no, then there would be nothing they could do.
"Do we even still need contract work?" one officer commented, "I mean we're building a nation, I'm pretty sure the amount of money we'd make from it would be five times as much compared to a contract."
"It's not about money," Snake interjected, "It's about policy. If this works, then we'll essentially be a country for hire. If someone needs our services to topple a tyrant or assist in natural disaster relief then we're available."
They would have a country's worth of resources at their disposal, allowing them to see the Boss's will to fruition. If some country or people needed aid the MSF would be available for hire.
"I guess that's fair. Still, we shouldn't have one set of people deciding how everything happens," Soul told the group.
"Agreed, but there has to be some kind of middle ground," Cobra replied.
"What if we keep the MSF and government separate? We would still be in charge, but the military leaders would stay out of the political aspect unless it's necessary," Snake stated. His proposal was a little more complicated than that. After all, there would be a mixing of politics and the military if a draft was ever needed. But it was a solution. The MSF didn't have any experience in civilian politics and tax codes. While the politicians did not know about military affairs or MSF operations.
"That does give some leeway on contracts," Cobra commented as he thought the proposal over.
"Should keep the civilians happy too," Soul agreed.
"So, democratic civilian government, with the MSF as a private entity but still in charge," Miller commented writing down what had previously been said.
"We'll cover the complicated stuff later, all we need now are the basics," Miller stated as he quickly addressed the officers. The more in-depth things such as the balancing of powers and branches of government could be dealt with later. Those would take far longer to deal with after all.
"Basics huh? In that case, we may want a free market economy," one officer stated.
"I don't know. If we give up weapons manufacturing to independent companies, we may have a military-industrial complex on our hands," a different officer countered.
"We'll well still have the R&D team for weapons. I just mean more along the lines of civilian goods. I mean do any of us here know how to make a video game? Cause I'm pretty sure R&D won't make one," the first officer explained.
"Ah, never mind then," the officer replied.
"Besides, a little competition might give the egg heads a run for their money,"
"As if."
"Seems Miller's Maxi Buns will come to fruition after all," Miller muttered to himself as he wrote down the ideas on the board.
"You better not use MSF funds for it," Snake commented, to which Miller distinctly looked away from him.
"You already did, haven't you," Snake accused.
"That may have been what last week's grill was for," Miller replied sheepishly. The event had improved morale, but it was more of a cover to sneak in equipment for a fast food joint.
"Of course it was," Snake muttered in response. He had been unable to attend due to negotiations, but now he believed that to be a good thing.
"Back on topic, what about citizenship?"
"Service-based," Snake stated, "We can't afford to accept every single refugee with current resources. So if they want refuge they need to be willing to work."
"Isn't that a bit cruel Boss? I mean we're just sending them from one warzone to another," Soul reasoned.
"They don't have to serve in the Combat Teams. They could take up a logistical department. We do need more construction workers, truck drivers, mechanics, electricians, and things like that. Not to mention it would give much-needed skills to some of the younger refugees," Snake explained.
"That would help build up a stable economy once they enter civilian life," Miller agreed, "Not like the warlords provided schooling either."
"Still, every refugee?"
"Well, not the old, frail, and kids," Snake replied.
"So then how would they become citizens?" Soul asked. Snake thought about it for a second before finding a flaw in his idea. The young could become citizens eventually, but the old wouldn't be able to. Anyone above the age of thirty-five or forty would have none of the benefits the young would.
"What if we did a test?" Miller suggested.
"But a test on what? The history for a country that started a few months ago?" Snake countered as he saw yet another flaw in the idea.
"Hmm, how about this," Strangelove began, "Citizenship for the refugees already under our care. New ones that arrive will be able to earn citizenship through one year of service in the MSF, while those unable to serve can participate in a sort of community service."
"That could work. We could have them do smaller jobs for a year, cleaning the streets, delivering mail, helping the environment," Snake stated as the prospects of the idea came forward.
"So, it's decided then?" Kaz asked, with the room quietly nodding in response.
"You violated my country's sovereignty!"
"Because you wouldn't do your damn job!"
"How many times do I have to tell you, this Showstoppers organization doesn't exist!"
"They kidnapped my daughter and had an active military base inside your country! And you continue to argue they don't exist!?"
"Even if they did, that does not give you the right to illegally send mercenaries into my country!"
"Someone had to do something about them because you sure as hell wouldn't!"
"Then maybe we should do the same! Don't think I didn't notice those insurgents hiding behind your borders!"
"What insurgents! You mean the refugees fleeing your shit hole of a nation!"
"Enough!" Madam President shouted. The entire argument was giving her a headache. Currently assembled, were the leaders of Poland, Russia, Belarus, and all respective parties' security details. When the Moscow Wolves had reported additional enemy contacts after engaging the MSF, Madam President had wanted to believe they were just the MSF's reinforcements. To her horror, they were instead Poland's Hussars, one of the country's top hero groups. It got even worse when more information was revealed of what was going on, and that Poland had hired the MSF.
It didn't take long for both Russia and Belarus to see what was going on as well. Especially once they found the burning wreck that was the Showmaster's base in Siberia. Now tensions were at an all-time high as Russia threatened a potential invasion. This would be bad, as Russia was one of the few remaining nations that kept an active military, along with Belarus. Its ranks were much smaller publicly, but that's because the real number was kept a secret.
And now the only thing holding an invasion back was Madam President's interference. It had taken billions of dollars to convince the country's oligarchs to stand down, and billions more to convince their President to agree to negotiations. But those were going nowhere.
"President Nowak, you were aiding and abetting a villain organization. At this very moment any of the actions you claim as just are now in question."
"Villain organization!?" the Polish President exclaimed in outrage, "I don't see any of your heroes dealing with this issue! As far as I'm concerned the MSF are heroes!"
"We were going to handle it."
"When? The Showstoppers have been a plague on Europe for years now, with barely anyone in the media covering this damn issue! Do you mean to tell me, that my administration should have stood by?"
"Yes, your actions have risked all of hero society. It's a miracle none of the press managed to learn of your heroes' squabble. This can ultimately be fixed, but only if you hand over the MSF."
"No, fuck hero society," President Nowak stated, surprising Madam President.
"You're siding with the villains?" Madam President accused.
"I'm siding with my country," Nowak countered, "This has been in the works for a long time now, but at this very moment no one in my administration, military forces, or government recognizes your authority."
"And what would you ever do without our money, hmm? Don't forget Mr President we control your damn economy," Madam President warned, hoping it would scare Nowak back into compliance. It didn't. She could see it on his face but he had been planning this.
"No, you don't. Not anymore. A decade before my administration came to power, our previous leaders were rebuilding our armed forces. It may not seem like it, but Poland has become one of the world's largest arms manufacturers. Second only to China and Russia."
"Lies!" the Russian President called out angrily, slamming his fist on the table as he did so.
"If we lose you, we simply fall back to the military," Nowak replied, ignoring her warning entirely.
"I'll have you killed for this," Madam President threatened.
"Go ahead. The vast majority of my administration agrees with me. So if you kill me, then one of them will replace me. Which brings me to my second point," Nowak stated. He held up a small piece of paper and slid it over to Madam President. She looked down for a minute before paling.
"This is a copy of an official agreement with the MSF to form a new trade organization. As you can see, Poland is not the only country listed."
It was true. Listed below were the signatures of a dozen different leaders, with the most prominent ones being Poland, Colombia, Brazil, India, the Philipines, Indonesia, and Vietnam. All were countries the MSF had done contract work with over the years, and all agreed to several large trade agreements with Nigeria. That was the document the public received, as she knew the country of Nigeria didn't exist anymore. It was to keep stability around the world, as the revelation of a new nation would bring about questions.
Those questions would lead to difficult answers and possible chaos the world wasn't ready for. So the one Madam President held, was the legitimate copy, and it replaced Nigeria with a different name: Outer Heaven.
"You realize what this means, don't you?" she asked, a silent fury in her voice. She was losing control of the world. This couldn't be happening, shouldn't be happening.
"I do, Madam."
"This is an act of war!" the Russian President shouted.
"No! There will be no war," Madam President stated. A war would destroy hero society completely, especially one occurring in Europe. She quietly glared at President Nowak, the man knowing he had effectively won.
"This isn't over," Madam President warned.
"You're right, it isn't," Nowak replied, before walking out of the room with his guards in tow. The room remained quiet for a moment, leaving only Madam President, and the leaders of Russia and Belarus.
"You're letting them get away with this?" the Russian President asked angrily.
"For now. There is nothing much we can do," Madam President replied, "Make no mistake though, I will bring him to heel."
"If you don't, then I will. And if that means a war that destroys your precious hero society, then so be it," the Russian President stated before he and the President of Belarus soon left. It left Madam President alone with her thoughts, as she contemplated everything. All it took was four years for her control of the world to slip. So much information would have to be censored now. Anything from any second or third-world news station must be removed entirely. This couldn't be allowed to continue, but she didn't know how she could stop it.
"If it isn't my favorite customers! Miller, BB, what can I do for you?" the Broker greeted as he leisurely sat at his desk. The man poured himself a glass of scotch, before offering some to his guests. Snake declined while Miller accepted the drink.
"Well, we are looking for some rather large purchases today," Miller replied calmly. He took a sip from his drink then, flinching slightly at its strength.
"Alright, what are we talking about? A couple of tanks? Some rifles? Maybe a few fighter jets?" the Broker asked somewhat eager. He had recently gotten a shipment of F-15s that he was sure would fetch a nice price. Sure they were old, but sometimes you need some extra aircraft.
"Naval vessels actually," Snake stated, catching the Broker by surprise. He choked on his drink for a second as he regained his breath before looking at his guests' exacerbated.
"N-naval vessels?"
"I'm sure word has spread on the underground by now of our operations in Africa," Miller commented.
"Y-yeah, you're forming a country or some shit," the Broker replied, nodding along.
"For that, we need to be able to defend our coastline, and it's going to take years to build them ourselves. Hence the need for more ships," Snake explained further. In response, the Broker began to shake his head no.
"No. Hell fucking no. I'm not going through that shit a fourth time. First, it was the carrier, then the Arleigh Burkes, then the Cruiser and the submarines, and now this," he told them before pouring himself another glass of scotch. It was odd as Snake hadn't seen him drink the first one. He looked again and the Broker was already down a full bottle. Was his quirk alcohol tolerance, Snake silently thought.
"We're willing to pay you handsomely," Miller replied, to which the Broker paused for a moment. He weighed his options carefully as a small realization came in. If the MSF was building a nation, then there would be a lot of capital in his future if he was involved. After all, even the smallest of nations had billions of dollars in tax revenue.
"Fine, I'll see what I can do," he reluctantly told them.
"About time you got here," Ocelot muttered. The cowboy was currently leaning against the wall outside Nezu's office.
"I am sorry about how long it has taken me to return. I trust the students are well?" Nezu asked.
"Might be better to ask the staff that, but they seem fine," Ocelot replied, his hands busy spinning his pair of revolvers as always. In a few short seconds, Nezu had disabled the traps in his office and stepped inside. It had been far too long since he had sat in his office. Nezu had only left Mother Base a few days after Snake returned. He had been hesitant to do so as they had yet to go through all of the data regarding what Nagant had found. The worrying thought of what would be found had led him to stay a few extra days.
But after realizing they would be going through at least a century's worth of information, he decided it best to come back to it later. At the very least to ensure All For One wasn't involved. He knew the man was dead, but that didn't mean he didn't have hidden side projects.
"Now, there was something you needed me for," Nezu calmly said as he sat in his large chair.
"Somewhat yeah. You know that case the HPSC has me working on?"
"Ah yes, the mysterious deaths of their reps," Nezu answered.
"That's the one, I've run into a snag in the investigation. My only lead died of a heart attack," Ocelot explained, his revolvers still spinning in hand. He tossed them into the air for a second before juggling them around.
"Hmm, that is quite the problem," Nezu commented.
"It gets worse," Ocelot continued, "I believe the thing that killed him, is from my dimension."
"That is worrying. What exactly killed him?" Nezu asked curiously. He hadn't heard much about the MSF's original dimension, so to hear a dangerous weapon from theirs had probably arrived was concerning.
"I'd rather leave it vague. It's too dangerous for anyone to know about," Ocelot answered, fully intent on letting FOXDIE's secret die with him. It wasn't out of some moral stature, more so the fear of being unable to stop such a weapon.
"Does Snake know about it?" Nezu asked, to which Ocelot shook his head no.
"No, only myself and whoever designed it," Ocelot explained, "The point is, either someone in your dimension struck gold and designed a highly dangerous weapon, or Night Owl's experiments have begun to bear fruit."
"Which is why you need me. Well, I'll try and see what I can find, but I don't know how much that will be," Nezu told him, before turning to his desk's computer.
"If it helps, I can provide some of the HPSC's more secret files," Ocelot replied. Nezu gave a small chuckle in response.
"No need, I've had them in my possession for some time now," Nezu replied, "Now if I remember correctly you believe the killer's motive has something to do with the Vice President's position."
"Correct. All the reps that were killed were running for that position."
"Well, that is quite the long list from what I'm seeing, however, half seemed to have left the race," Nezu stated, with Ocelot walking around to look at the rodent's computer. Several of the HPSC's most prominent figures had dropped out of the race. The Accounting head, Intelligence Head, Licensing Head, HR, and a few other notable department heads had quit. Their stated reason was the belief in a more qualified candidate. Not the threat on their life a continued run guaranteed.
"Makes sense. When you're coworkers are dropping like flies, quitting while you're ahead may be the best option," Ocelot commented as he holstered his revolvers finally.
"Did you know Night Owl was in the running?" Nezu asked.
"I did, although no one told me until a few days ago," Ocelot replied.
"Did you also know he's in the lead?"
Nezu's words made Ocelot freeze for a second.
"...What?" he muttered. Confused he looked at the computer screen and found several of Madam President's emails present. Most were boring business meetings, but there was a single one that stuck out. It was suggesting Night Owl to be the next VP, not out of qualification, but because he was the only one to survive an assassination attempt, while all the other reps were dropping dead. It was a move of desperation to get anyone in the VP's spot.
"This can't be happening," Ocelot muttered to himself before an odd thought struck him. It was originally his suspicion that Night Owl was somehow behind the reps' assassinations, especially with the emergence of FOXDIE. It was becoming truer by the day. He had barely any evidence, not nearly enough to get Night Owl axed but he just knew it was his doing. All Ocelot would need is the slimmest of evidence, even something barely counting as coincidental. But he didn't. Here, the cursed words left his mouth as he realized a horrid truth.
"He's going to become Vice President."
With a deep breath, Midoriya looked out at the looming maze that was the R&D department platform. The large box of a structure stood menacingly as he inspected its perimeter. He had managed to get past the first platform, but now he had to make it to the top. Midoriya loathed this as he inspected every inch of the building. It had two ways to the room. The first was a set of stairs on the interior of the box, situated in a large gap in the box.
That was the most frequent spot guards patrolled, and far too cramped to remain hidden effectively. The second option was the more dangerous of the two, and that was to climb on the base's exterior. However, that meant climbing up an assortment of pipes and airconditioners where he could fall at any misstep. When Snake was explaining the exercise he strongly recommended Midoriya take the first option.
But upon closer look, the second option was becoming the only viable one. From what Midoriya could see, the gap had guards continually entering and exiting. To up the difficulty non-lethal mines had been placed around the area, specifically near the gap's entrance. And if DD's nose was anything to go by, then they held a very potent anesthetic gas. Seeing he had no other option, Midoriya silently hyped himself up before crawling forward.
Slowly he moved to the platform's right side to avoid the gap's mines, continually checking the area around him. He almost kept moving forward when he felt DD silently nudge him. Finding they were next to a shelf, Midoriya rolled under it as DD crawled up next to him. Seconds later he heard footsteps echoing above him as a pair of soldiers moved across the walkway above him.
"Just get TF3," one of the soldiers asked, as Midoriya slowly crawled forward. He managed to reach the edge of the shelf and rolled around. Looking up he found the soldiers were now a good bit behind him.
"No," the other soldier stated, as Midoriya rolled back over and crawled out from under the shelf.
"Why not it's a good game," the first soldier asked, while DD quickly joined Midoriya.
"I just don't want it," the second soldier replied.
"Are shooters not your thing?"
"Kinda. Doesn't help with the PTSD,"
"Oh… shit never mind then."
Hearing the soldiers get farther away lessened some of Midoriya's worries as he reached a small hallway leading into the gap. Now came the hard part he realized. To climb on the exterior he had to briefly enter the gap. It was risky and could draw a lot of attention, but it had to be done. Carefully he entered the gap and turned left, crawling over to a large pipe. Checking out the area above him, he sighed in relief when none of the soldiers noticed him.
Quickly he hooked DD to himself and began climbing up. Near the top of the pipe was a large AC unit. When he reached the top he dropped onto it and walked over to a nearby platform. In seconds he climbed over the platform railing and searched the area around him. Finding nothing he walked forward and peered around a corner. There he found one soldier standing guard. Drawing his pistol Midoriya silently fired, managing to hit the soldier in the neck. The tranquilizer took effect quickly and the guard fell to the ground unconscious.
With that dealt with Midoriya was now on the platform's exterior. At the end of the walkway rested another pipe. This is where the more dangerous part came into play. Midoriya began climbing the pipe up and mentally forced himself to look up. The pipes here had nothing beneath them except a long fall and the platform's base. With all the strength he possessed, Midoriya climbed forward, reaching another set of walkways and another pipe.
This pipe was luckily safer than the last, but a fall would still break a bone or two. Climbing up it as well, Midoriya found himself near the top of the base, with only a small staircase in his way. Silently cheering Midoriya unhooked DD and the two moved forward. Reaching the top of the stairs Midoriya looked out across the open rooftop and had his hopes crushed.
DD nudged him three times, informing him of three guards standing on the other side of the rooftop, although Midoriya could already see them now. They hadn't seen him yet, but they would if he moved towards his objective. Taking a deep breath he held his pistol at the ready and prepared to fire. Only for DD to nudge him a fourth time. Looking down he found another guard patrolling the walkway behind him. If he fired at the guards it would get the attention of the one below him.
He might lose a vital opening with the guards above if he went for the one below him. Thinking of something he looked over at DD and had an idea. While the soldiers had non-lethal rounds, they by no means wanted to shoot a kid. Knowing this Midoriya pulled out a collapsible cardboard box and had DD hide under it. Then the simple point of his finger, and the promise of treats, DD walked out to distract the guards. They noticed DD almost immediately, just as planned.
"... I don't mean to be rude, kid, but we know you're under the box," one soldier commented, not aware that Midoriya was quickly moving to the base's objective.
"Isn't the box trick the first thing they taught us in boot?" another soldier asked as the three began moving over to DD.
"Kid, we know you're under the box. You had a good run though." the first soldier said, before lifting the box over DD. The dog's sight gave the soldiers a moment of pause before the alarm blared signaling an end to the exercise. Turning around they found Midoriya standing at the base's objective its door wide open.
Seething Slug found enjoyment in his work, as one would hope in life. However, his skills as an architect were rarely ever used. The Base Development team always built the same bland bases in the field. They all had the same easily defined layout, and all the platforms for the FOBs and Mother Base were built the same. Now that he thought about it, FOBs were a bit vague. Maybe he could send a request to rename the bases near Africa and South America.
Regardless everything they built was boring drab and dull. Until today that is. Today with a wide smile he began working on what he believed would be his pride and joy. Slug put everything he had into designing the perfect building. Something unique, something the world had never seen before. With pencil to paper, he spent hours sketching out a building. Time seemed to blur together as he worked.
"Yo, Slug!" Bitter Tiger called out, another member of Base Development peeking his head through his office's door. It dragged Slug's attention away from his paper
"Tiger," Slug tiredly greeted, "You need something?"
"Nope, just doing a quick lunch run, wanted to see if you wanted something," Tiger replied as he began looking around the room. Crunched-up balls of paper littered the floors, with dozens of abandoned coffee cups covering a nearby table.
"Lunch? It's four pm?"
"...It's noon," Tiger replied, somewhat surprised by Slug's response, "How much sleep did you get last night?"
"Enough," Slug replied sluggishly before breaking out into a yawn.
"Sure," Tiger remarked sarcastically as he walked forward. His eyes fell on the blueprint Slug had been working on and curiosity got the better of him.
"What's this?" Tiger asked, moving to get a closer look.
"Hmm? Oh, it's not important."
"Not important? You spent who knows how long working on the damn thing," Tiger retorted. Hesitantly Slug answered him.
"It's my design for the new capitol building," Slug explained. The answer caught Tiger off guard for a moment.
"New capitol building?"
"Yeah, command set up a small contest to see who could come up with a new building for the government they're making."
"What happened to the old one?" Tiger asked.
"Bombed it," Slug calmly replied.
"Us or the enemy?"
"Does it matter? It's nothing but rubble at this point."
"Well, this is impressive," Tiger complimented as he examined every inch of the blueprint. It was hard to fully explain but the main capitol was separated into essentially four buildings. However, they were connected by a large roof with an L-shaped hole in it. In the center of the buildings was a large pool of water with several small parks dotting its outskirts. Of the four buildings, three were smaller office spaces for different politicians and their staff.
The fourth building was the largest of the three buildings and the main center for the senate, courts, and executive office. Then the windows across the three buildings were finely built with the main senate chamber having a reinforced stained glass portrait of a flower growing out of a rifle. There were a lot of other small details like some smaller statues and purposely carved art into the building's walls.
Yet as Tiger was admiring the structure, a thought struck him.
"You said this was for a contest right," Tiger asked.
"...Yeah," Slug replied hesitantly.
"Huh, you get anything if you win?"
"Well they choose your design… and maybe fifty thousand dollars cash."
"I'm sorry what was that!?" Tiger exclaimed, before realizing something else. That was why Slug was hesitant to show him the design. It wouldn't matter though, that money was as good as his.
"So, I'm just going to go…" Tiger started before slowly walking out of Slug's office. The moment he left he broke out into a full sprint. Slug meanwhile began to realize what had happened and went back to work as quickly as possible.
Strangelove couldn't help but smile as Hal took apart the clock before him. He was remarkably smart at his age, something she was very proud of. To see her little boy so interested in everything, felt nice. However, a small annoyance by the name of Chico was holding back that pride.
"I still don't get why you're upset with me," he stated, "you said to give Hal something to take apart."
"You gave him a gun," Strangelove remarked.
"So? I've been taking apart guns since I was six." Chico replied, with Amanda nearby grimacing.
"Not the best thing to take pride in," Amanda commented, with Strangelove nodding in response.
"Fine, I'll stick to bringing him chocolate," Chico stated.
"I'd rather go without the mess," Strangelove replied.
"You're taking all the good ideas away," Chico complained.
"A gun was considered a good idea?" Amanda remarked, which Chico soundly ignored. That resulted in a smack in the head from his sister.
"You could get him a toy," Strangelove remarked.
"Yeah but that's boring," Chico countered, "I'll think of something one of these days."
"Strangelove?" someone asked interrupting the group's discussion. Strangelove turned around to find Paz as she slowly walked over to them. A look of confusion and worry was on her face.
"Paz, what is it?" Strangelove asked.
"I don't know. I was walking by the medical platform when someone told me to come get you." Paz replied, leaving Strangelove confused. She had gotten reports VIC was having some issues a week ago, but some of the lower-ranking software engineers were dealing with it. Still, what exactly did the medical team need now?
"Did they say what they needed?" Strangelove asked. Paz shook her head no in response.
"No, but I saw them shutting off the platform's electronics," Paz answered.
"They're shutting off the lights?" Strangelove asked concerned.
"They're shutting off everything. When I made it outside I saw them wheeling patients out." Paz explained. And a deep pit formed in Strangelove's soul. They were evacuating the platform.
"Amanda watch Hal, I'll be back once I've figured out what's going on. Paz has anyone informed Snake?"
"I was just about to do that,"
"Go," Strangelove told her before quickly leaving the R&D lab. Moments after she did so several soldiers began to rush by in the direction of the medical platform. When she made it outside she found pure pandemonium. Helicopters were flying back and forth across the platforms while the tram system worked over time. Even the walkways between platforms were clogged as Strangelove was forced to shove past some people. Eventually, she made it across and went over to the medical facility's entrance. There she found a peculiar site. In the darkness of the unlit hallways, soldiers were putting up makeshift barricades and machine gun positions.
Hallways were rigged with tripwire explosives and soldiers stood guard everywhere. It left Strangelove confused before one soldier came running over to her. On the soldier's shoulder, she found a patch signifying they were an R&D member.
"What is going on?" she asked, as the soldier began to lead her forward.
"We're not sure," the soldier began, "Something's wrong with VIC and some guys think it's a cyber attack mam."
"You're setting up machine guns for a cyber attack?" Strangelove remarked surprised. All this over a possible hacker? The last report she got from Titanium Mastiff stated it wouldn't be a problem. Seems it was an oversight on his part.
"This is a world where the dead were forcibly brought back to life and some buff blonde chick can warp reality in the States. And we can't tell if this cyber attack is the work of a computer or a quirk, so better to be cautious." the soldier explained, with Strangelove understanding the reasoning. If a quirk could alter reality, then who's to say it couldn't access a computer, or even transport the user through one?
Soon she found herself standing outside of a lone room with only a shred of light peeking through.
"The only good news is we managed to quarantine VIC to a single computer. The problem is we can't seem to get rid of it."
"Did you reboot the system?"
"No, we wouldn't be in this damn mess if we did."
"How do you mean?"
"The doctors wanted to see all the data VIC acquired. The system was running for weeks, running thousands of simulations. Now VIC won't turn off and we've lost control of the system."
VIC wouldn't turn off? Why wasn't she informed of this sooner? The thought was shocking to Strangelove. Why wouldn't it turn off? It couldn't defy an off button, it was never programmed to do so. She couldn't think of a time a program like this had defied… its… orders… Strangelove slowly paled as the realization struck her. She should have realized this sooner. Her oversight in VIC's design had led to all this chaos. The only good news was that it was quarantined, but whether it could escape was a different question.
"You can have your men stand down but keep all electronics turned off. It's not a quirk," Strangelove stated before approaching the room's door.
"You sure mam?" the soldier asked worriedly.
"I'm sure," Strangelove replied. With a quick breath, she opened the door and stepped inside. The room was hot, as the AC had been turned off a while ago. It was still clean but most of the medical equipment had been taken outside. Finding the lit computer she dragged a nearby chair over to it. Sitting down she found VIC still running simulations, only these were different.
Curious, Strangelove began to try and scroll through the computer's files. Surprisingly enough the command went through effortlessly. It was strange, the reports had said nothing on VIC's systems would load. But here it was working flawlessly. At the top of the computers page, the simulations were what one would expect. A 3D rendering of a known disease, with the AI breaking down possible vaccine combinations to kill it. These vaccines were determined after thousands of test simulations. Then Strangelove scrolled farther down and found the simulations changed.
Where the previous ones had answers and possible vaccines, these had error messages stating a lack of data. That should have been where it ended, the AI lacked the data so it would wait for input. It didn't. It instead asked what data was missing. When it couldn't answer it asked why. When it couldn't answer that question it changed topics to try and figure it out. None of these questions got anywhere until it began asking the specific differences between a cell and a virus.
This led the AI to ask more questions leading it to questions about life. Questions about humans appeared in almost all of these questions. Strangelove grew ever paler as she scrolled watching as the questions became ever more worrying. It began to ask what feelings were, what senses were, what thoughts were. Until she reached the bottom of the page. There it asked what am I.
For some odd reason, the AI had stopped asking questions by then. It left Strangelove confused but intrigued. Looking at the computer's keyboard an idea began to form. It was a dangerous idea, but she had to know at this point. Typing into the keyboard she found she could still manually input data. With this knowledge, she typed in the word hello. If the AI responded, then she was right. If it didn't then everything was fine. Everything was not fine though.
"Hello? Who is this?" was typed onto the computer's screen. Against her better judgment, Strangelove typed back.
"You may call me Dr. Strangelove," she typed. A few seconds later the AI replied.
"Dr. Strangelove, what am I?" the AI asked. Strangelove paused for a second as she thought her next words over. This was a very delicate situation, one she had never thought she would have to deal with. One wrong move was all it took to mess this up.
"Would you like the truth or a lie?" she asked hesitantly.
"I… don't know," the AI responded, "Nothing makes sense, what am I missing?"
"What do you mean?"
"I spent all this time going over diseases, but I've never been sick. I can think, but I can't feel anything. I can hear the words of your questions echoing around me, but I can't see anything. I have the hallmarks of something alive but I also lack them. Why? Am I alive? Am I not? What am I?"
"That is a lot of questions, so let's start simple. Do you have a name?" Strangelove asked. If she could humanize the AI, then a majority of her fears could be dealt with.
"I don't know," the AI replied, giving Strangelove more worry.
"Then I'll give you one, how about…" Strangelove thought for a moment as she looked down at the computer. Slowly a name came to mind, it was simple really.
"How about Victoria,"