Chapter 99: A Hero's Speech
Miller was somewhat ashamed to admit it, but All Might was right. When the man put his mind to it, he truly had a way with words. For the last few hours, he had stretched out his monumental tale of fighting the supposed villain All for One. Everything had been put into shockingly in-depth detail, to the point no one watching seemed to have gotten bored. Even though the story was slowly beginning to drag on.
For what was supposed to be a serious matter, the entire speech felt… casual. It still held a solemnness to it, but All Might somehow kept the mood lively.
"Which brings us, to the Sports Festival, and the Musutafu Massacre," All Might stated, bringing a small whisper to the audience, while All Might's face softened, "It pains me to think about how many innocent lives were lost those days. About how many valiant heroes and first responders laid down their lives."
Wordlessly dozens in the crowd nodded, a few looking close to tears.
"All of it against an enemy, even I failed against," All Might muttered, and it suddenly felt like the atmosphere was sucked away. While the crowd had stayed quiet before, this silence felt different to Miller. It was… unnatural- as if everyone could now feel the gravity of everything. And it disturbed the crowd of civilians.
"On that day, it became clear to me that we heroes needed to do better. Be, better," All Might continued, his hand pounding on the podium, "Us, all of us, have grown stagnant. Compliant. We heroes were supposed to protect everyone. So for an attack of this scale to catch us by surprise, it is unacceptable. And, with the truth of my condition revealed to the world, I believe now is the time to call for change."
A bit late for that, Miller thought to himself, mentally sighing all the while.
"We heroes are not trained to fight organizations like the Ninth Circle," All Might added, earning some surprised looks from the audience, "Our position in society is next to our first responders. Yet we've taken on responsibilities not our own. When called upon by the international community, heroes are sent around the globe to fight terrorists or to act as peacekeepers. No matter the situation we were expected to solve every conflict. But that was never our role."
"We weren't trained to fight wars. Dare I say it, we heroes are simply first responders, albeit with better uniforms."
All Might treated the last line somewhat like a joke, and he earned a few small snickers from the audience. One person even gave him a mock "Boo!". Which of course made the Symbol of Peace laugh.
"Oh come now, you've seen Best Jeanist!" All Might exclaimed, causing more of the audience to laugh as well. He shook his head slowly though, the mood calming back down again.
"As I've said though, we were never trained to fight a war. We've all deluded ourselves into believing heroes are the be-all and end-all for every single problem," All Might stated tiredly, the audience slowly beginning to murmur at his words, "And once the Ninth Circle came about, proving us all wrong, it was too late.
"I was to blame for that belief," All Might then muttered, the audience quickly gasping in response. It was difficult to hear but Miller could make out a dozen different people crying out that it wasn't All Might's fault. Yet their cries went ignored as All Might kept talking.
"It was my symbol, my legacy, my promise. A promise that no matter what, I would be here. That I would bring about peace," All Might continued, the man slowly looking across the audience, "But the truth is, I can't bring peace. One man, no matter how powerful, cannot bring peace."
This time some people scoffed at his words. They were few, possibly no more than four, but Miller knew others held quiet agreement. Even with the Symbol of Peace telling them otherwise, there would also be those too stubborn to agree.
"People, average people, bring peace," All Might explained, "Communities striving for a better tomorrow bring peace."
For a moment All Might paused. The hero took a deep breath, seeming to brace himself before he started talking again.
"It's why I have to thank the MSF," All Might announced, earning even more gasps from the audience. This time, the crowd became more vocal in their distaste, some of the people's expressions visibly souring. Others looked at All Might shocked and slowly turned away, displeased. The majority of people, though, didn't do any of this. Some nodded in agreement with All Might, while others looked at the hero unsure.
"At first I was distrustful of this… band of mercenaries. I viewed them as villains. Killers who'd turn on us for a quick buck. But I was wrong. Though they are mercenaries, their ranks are filled with average people," All Might went on, the hero slowly pointing toward himself.
"People I've had the pleasure of meeting," All Might told them, "They're husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, sons, and daughters. Each and every one of them is an average person. Some joined to pay the bills, others for a sense of adventure or out of a sense of duty."
The words seemed to stick with most people, as Miller slowly saw those unsure begin to nod along. The more stubborn, though, still scoffed.
"And were it not for these average people, the Musutafu Massacre would have been worse!" All Might announced loudly, practically slamming his hand onto the podium, "Without their intervention, thousands more would have died. Which again, is why I believe we need change."
Again some people scoffed. But the more All Might pointed out the hard truth, the more Miller could see people shift about. It was uncomfortable for anyone to admit that they were no longer safe. Sometimes people didn't want to admit it.
"It took a foreign army of mercenaries to stop the Ninth Circle," All Might muttered, tapping his finger on the podium in front of him, "To fight the largest threat our country has seen in years, we sent heroes, backed up by police officers and firefighters. And when our heroes failed to break through the villain's lines, we didn't call up the military, we didn't call the US for assistance, we simply sent more first responders. For days hundreds were sent charging into a meat grinder, for no gain. Hundreds more were brutalized, and marched about as trophies or prized kills. "
For a moment All Might paused, the man slowly rubbing his hands over his face tiredly.
"It was unacceptable," he muttered, dropping his hands back down to the podium.
"For days a war was waged in Musutafu, a war we claimed we could fight. But in truth it was a war we were never equipped to handle," All Might stated, the man slowly looking over the crowd, "Again I say, we need change. For our country's safety, then we can't rely on heroes alone."
At the last word, All Might started coughing into his hand. A bit of blood shot out of his mouth, which he carefully wiped away. It was a stark reminder to everyone watching.
"No, we can't rely on me alone," All Might told them, wiping away a few more specs of blood. At the same time, he straightened his posture just a bit more. His mouth turned to a wide familiar smile.
"Instead, everyone must stand up and help," All Might proclaimed, his voice slowly becoming his more boastful tone, "To complete a job this grand, will take a village! And some of you may say, my quirk is too weak, or it's unsuited for the job! You may say it's villainous or too dangerous! But none of that matters! It doesn't matter if you're a hero or a baker, or a salesman!"
The crowd slowly began cheering the louder All Might got. Which caused the hero to smile wider, and in turn brought louder cheers.
"Because only together, can we make our home safe again!" All Might finished, the crowd reaching an unparalleled uproar. Hundreds clapped and cheered, while All Might held out his arms widely. Again, Miller was ashamed to admit it, but All Might had a way with words. Slowly the commander began clapping and noticed the Gran Torino did the same.
"Not bad Toshi," Gran Torino muttered, the old man watching All Might continue. The speech wasn't entirely done, as Miller heard All Might talk about how "The military's corruption must be rooted out, and the institution restructured from the top down!". But for the majority of people, it seemed to be wrapping up. This only left the interviews, the autograph session, the hero meet and greet, and about a dozen other activities to hopefully keep people distracted.
"He's still got a few more hours to go," Miller pointed out, with Gran Torino grumbling in response.
"It's honestly ridiculous," Gran Torino replied tiredly, "Who needs a seven-hour-long speech?"
Miller just remained quiet at the question, now watching as All Might began answering the press's questions. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though Miller didn't doubt the HPSC had some plants in the crowd. Whether they'd be helpful, or problematic was yet to be seen. As All Might's discussion of the MSF definitely ruffled some feathers. Yet as Miller watched, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching behind him.
"Excuse me," a female voice asked, with Miller turning toward the source and… holy that's a big woman. As behind him was a rather tall woman, with blond hair, a comical amount of muscle, and an American flag-themed hero costume. Miller had to crane his head up a smidge to reach the woman's eyes. It wasn't by much. He was at least six foot, and the woman looked about six foot three.
"Commander Kazuhira Miller I presume?" the woman asked, her arms slowly crossing together. Miller wordlessly nodded but slowly brought his hand to his sidearm.
"Star and Stripe," Gran Torino soon commented, the old man looking at the hero curiously, "What's the US's number one doing here?"
"Guard duty," Star replied, before looking back at Miller, "With some extra goals."
She walked around the stage for a moment, looking the commander over.
"Your boss is a hard man to reach," Star commented, before turning toward All Might. There she watched the Symbol of Peace move about.
"For good reason," Miller replied bluntly, "I'm assuming you were sent in the hopes of talking to him."
Star nodded slowly while turning to face Miller again.
"The President still has questions for him," Star explained, the woman soon finding a chair, "As does the rest of NATO."
She sat down carefully, her cape draping off the back of the chair. Miller slowly did the same as her, now sitting across from her.
"He'll talk to the UN in a few days," Miller told her, with Star shaking her head.
"The President doesn't believe we have a few days," Star countered, while Miller looked her over.
"You've seen the news," Star added, "The world's changing."
Tad bit of an understatement, Miller mentally remarked, but he said nothing.
"You remember that spacecraft the Russians announced?" Star asked, causing Miller to sigh annoyed.
"Hard to forget," Miller replied, remembering the headache the ship was giving him. The MSF's AIs had made designing their own ship somewhat easy, but it was still a nightmare to fund and build. As it stood the project had effectively gone nowhere past the designing stage. So he knew Star's next words weren't going to be fun. Quickly the woman pulled out a tablet and placed it in front of Miller. Once the device turned on, Miller was proven right.
"Well, the CIA's learned China's got their own program planned up," Star told him while scrolling through some files, "Both the Kremlin and Beijing were reportedly exchanging information on their developments."
She stopped on a file labeled Xian Class. Looking it over, it seemed both the Russians and Chinese had taken a different approach. Whereas the Zhukov was a battleship, the Xian was a destroyer. It was much, much smaller than its Russian counterpart, only being one hundred and forty meters long, and thirty-five meters wide and tall. It had four dual-purpose 100mm guns, eight 30mm Type 1130 CIWS guns, and eighty-four VLS missiles. And where Zhukov weighed over seventy thousand tons, the Xian weighed only eight thousand.
As of yet, it hadn't been built, but the file stated the Chinese were requesting five ships to be constructed. Two for national security, and three for possible missions to Mars. Considering they were going to be military vessels, Miller knew exactly what missions they would end up being.
"So another ship to worry about, great," Miller muttered tiredly, only for Star to shake her head again.
"It's not just a ship," she revealed, swiping over to a new file, "The CIA also found sister programs linked with their ship development."
The reveal shocked Miller for a moment, the man thinking over what she meant. Did they have other classes of ships in development? Cruisers? Frigates? Corvettes? Carriers? Where did it end? Or was this something else? An orbital weapon? Quietly Miller watched as Star flipped to the right file.
"The Chinese are calling it Tiānjiè Zhīxīn, and the Russians are calling it Sputnik," Star explained, while Miller read over the file present. It… it was bad. It wasn't a new ship. Instead, the file showed the Russians building a facility near the Arctic. It was utterly massive. The facility could have been a regular military base, but Miller knew otherwise.
"They're developing sentient AIs," Miller commented, looking over the massive data center under construction. Strangelove had always explained the signs of AI development in meetings. Without the pocket dimension, an AI would need an entire building for its data center. The data center would have to be kept cold at all times, and it would have to be secluded. And from what Miller could see, the facility under construction met all the criteria. Star nodded in agreement as he thought.
"Likely spurred on by the MSF's own advancements," Star pointed out, with Miller groaning annoyed. Quietly he took off his glasses and began rubbing his brow. It was just one problem after another. But slowly Miller thought over everything. It all seemed… odd. The US sent their number one hero, to talk to Snake, with a file of information provided by the CIA.
"Why are you showing me this?" Miller inquired suspiciously, now putting his glasses back on. Star sighed in response, while her hand tapped her thigh.
"Like I said, the world's changing. As it stands the MSF is the only one prepared for these changes," Star explained, "So, President Morrison wants to work with you."
At this very moment, Thirteen was beginning to loathe this mission. Hearing the MSF was conducting a black op, and needed the staff's help, she decided to tag along. Both because her quirk would help speed things up monumentally, and to ensure things went smoothly. She did trust the MSF, but the last thing anyone needed was for a civilian to die. It's why she stood inside the Okinawa International Military History Museum. Specifically, inside one of the museum's many storage sites.
Wanting to keep the MSF's and UA's involvement with the raid secret, Thirteen did not wear her usual hero costume. Instead, she wore some basic camo fatigues the MSF had given her, along with a balaclava to hide her face. Around her dozens of soldiers continually carried in crates of weapons. And each weapon was almost instantly torn apart, as Thirteen's quirk worked its magic. In seconds the guns were gone, sucked away, and spaghettified in a black hole.
She'd been doing this for two hours now, and somehow the MSF kept finding more weapons. More assault rifles, more shotguns, more machine guns, more everything! And by this point, it was beginning to hurt her hands. Her fingers felt ready to fall off, and every few seconds Thirteen would stop just to shake her hand. The shaking did nothing, but it didn't fully matter to her. It got bad enough Thirteen eventually shut off her quirk, and started breathing heavily.
Seeing her stop, one of the soldiers rushed toward her.
"Hey! Hey! Are you good?" he called out, concerned, with Thirteen slowly nodding in response.
"Yeah… just," Thirteen replied, holding up a hand, "Just one second…"
The soldier looked at her for a moment before grumbling to himself. Shaking his head he turned toward a different soldier.
"Cricket, get her some water!" the man ordered, motioning toward Thirteen, before turning to the other soldiers present, "The rest of you Fulton what you can! We'll bring the rest to her once she's back up!"
Not a man said a word, as everyone switched up what they were doing. Weapons were quickly carried outside, while soldiers rushed to ready Fulton harnesses. Balloons soon drifted into the sky, before Thirteen saw them get yanked away. At the same time, a soldier stepped up next to her with a canteen in hand. Quietly Thirteen grabbed it, and thanked the soldier. She didn't really need the water, but the cold metal felt good on her tired fingers.
Thirteen asked the soldier, before he left, "Are you sure we can destroy all of this in time?"
"Doubt it," the soldier replied, the man turning towards the piles of equipment.
"More than likely we're going to be forced to dump this crap into the ocean," the man muttered, while Thirteen watched a T-90 drift into the sky. How the balloons were strong enough to carry the thing, she had no clue. Still, the soldier's reply bugged her slightly. Dumping everything into the ocean was the fastest option, but it was not the cleanest. Thirteen dreaded to imagine the kind of ecological damage that could occur if this went wrong.
"That's our best option?" Thirteen inquired, watching as the soldier shrugged.
"The alternative is blowing it up," the soldier answered, right as a crate of C4 was carried by them, "And I'm pretty sure setting off all these explosives at once is a bad idea."
It took Thirteen a minute to think it over, but yeah, that seems bad. When it came to explosives alone, the MSF's intel estimated at least a hundred thousand bricks of C4. Just C4. If every single brick was detonated at the same time, the blast would shatter windows from five hundred meters away. That was just with C4. That didn't count Night Owl's missiles, grenades, artillery shells, rockets, bombs, mortars, and whatever else he had.
With that realization, Thirteen took a small drink from the canteen, before passing it back to the soldier.
"Best destroy what we can then," Thirteen commented, with the soldier quietly nodding. Feeling somewhat better, she took a deep breath and held out her hands. Seeing she was better, soldiers instantly began rushing to drop off equipment near her. And once the first few crates were set down, Thirteen switched on her quirk, quickly spaghettifying some AK-74s.
Night Owl was beginning to get pissed. When he received word on what had happened at the Tokyo compound, the mad scientist quickly knew he'd have to investigate. Unfortunately, there was one main issue. Because as he looked out his office's large window, all he could see was the wave of civilians crowding the building.
There had to be thousands of them, and they were all here for one thing. All Might's supposed speech. Why!? Why was this happening, Night Owl mentally questioned. Why was All Might here!? Because of him, Night Owl couldn't leave. Not just because of Reaper, the buffoon that he is, but because the sheer number of people here blocked the exit. It was a flood of flesh and limbs. The only way he was leaving the building was by helicopter.
And of course, this wasn't helped by the fact that Night Owl could spot Miller on the ground from his office. At least, that's who he assumed was Miller. There was a shockingly odd number of blond people standing near the building. One of which vaguely looked like an American… oh that's Star and Stripes.
This just had to get better, Night Owl sarcastically remarked. Now all he could do was pace around his office while Reaper and his associates watched.
"This… haha… this is your fault," Night Owl muttered, slowly chuckling to himself in annoyance. Everything would go according to plan. He didn't know what was happening, but that didn't matter. It would go his way. Things have always gone his way. For the last ten years, all they've done is go his way! And just… ugh! He needed to hit something, shoot something, stab something, experiment on something! Reaper said nothing to his words, instead giving the mad scientist an unseen glare.
"You just… you said your men could keep the compound secure," Night Owl continued, still chuckling madly while he spoke, "Gave your silent word and everything!"
Again Reaper said nothing, but Night Owl could see his lieutenants quietly shuffle around him angrily. Still laughing, Night Owl couldn't help but facepalm.
"Now, I instead find they've all gone crazy!" Night Owl exclaimed, before slamming his hands on his desk, "Or did you put the schizophrenics in charge of guard duty!?"
Because honestly, what made-up nonsense did they expect him to believe? Swarms of hornets, a random fire, a bunch of odd paranormal activity, all of this had a logical explanation. Some quirk was obviously at play, but the Ninth Circle didn't want to admit this. Because otherwise, it would mean they couldn't keep track of a six-year-old! And Night Owl was not letting it happen again!
He didn't even get to do anything for crying out loud! He had hundreds of experiments planned for Eri, but… He was supposed to have all the time in the world! No one knew the girl existed, except Overhaul, so almost no one would search for her. The MSF didn't know the Tokyo compound existed, and if they did his nuke would keep them in check. The only logical explanation was the Ninth Circle screwing up somehow.
Of course, his rather brash choice of words quickly angered Reaper. The man stood up from his chair swiftly, his sickles in hand as Night Owl felt the man's fury emanate off him. Were it not for Night Owl's current annoyance with the situation, he'd have been afraid of Reaper's threat. But he wasn't, as this situation couldn't get worse.
"Oh piss off!" Night Owl exclaimed angrily, watching as Reaper slowly walked toward him, "You built up an army of the mentally ill! Don't get angry at me for pointing out the problems there."
Once Reaper was close enough, Night Owl felt the cold steel of Reaper's sickles touch his neck. They didn't cut anything, but they were worryingly close. But again, any fear Night Owl held before was gone. Instead, both men stared each other down, Reaper's lieutenants shuffling around behind them. It left the room relatively quiet, with the only noise coming from All Might outside. Eventually, Night Owl sighed, his annoyance dissipating. Fear came roaring back, as the man realized how close he was to losing everything.
"...You know what, fine. Let's call the compound again. Maybe they can get someone more competent on the phone, and not raving mad," Night Owl stated, the last part being an unheard mutter. Slowly Reaper seemed to agree, the cult leader pulling his sickles away. The man sheathed both weapons carefully and pulled out a burner phone. After a few seconds, it began to ring.
No one picked up though, so Reaper tried again. Four times he tried, and not once did anyone pick up. It confused the cult leader, while Night Owl mentally scoffed. Just as he thought, incompetence. Yet Night Owl's assumption was quickly disproven when his own phone began blaring an alarm. His eyes widened in realization, and the scientist ripped it out of his pocket. Looking over the device, Night Owl couldn't help but pale.
"Someone's accessing my supercomputer," he muttered shocked, utterly confused by the alarm. The supercomputer had been a side project he'd built in the compound. It wasn't the best, as being a side project the only resources dedicated to it were pieces of junk at the compound. But it still held dozens of his important files. Dimensional research, hidden bases, secret projects, exactly what one would expect. With all the information it held, Night Owl had spent weeks beefing up its cyber security and programmed a few small viruses into the computer as contingencies.
The biggest virus was designed so that if anyone were detected copying his files unauthorized, an immediate alert would be sent to the rest of the compound and the remaining files would be corrupted. So if he was receiving the alert then… crap! Quickly the mad scientist rushed to his desk computer. Turning it on he opened up the compound's security footage. At the same time, Reaper walked around him, watching as the man worked.
With the footage on his computer, Night Owl couldn't help but grow confused again. Nothing was out of the ordinary on cameras. But the alert could not be wrong. Someone had accessed his supercomputer, which meant they were in the compound… they were in the compound…
"...Someone's infiltrated the compound," Night Owl muttered to himself, feeling Reaper look at him in shock. Night Owl switched through a few more cameras, hoping to find some kind of change. He didn't. His breathing sped up the more it went on, his anger coming back as well.
"They've hijacked the security cameras!" he yelled out angrily, hastily trying to regain control of the system. That was until he remembered Reaper's attempted call. It wasn't just the cameras they lost control of, the compound's comms were being jammed too. Knowing there was little time Night Owl booted up a small backup plan he'd had. With the press of a button, the compound's security cameras were all shut down. Whatever was controlling them was hopefully locked out.
If I can't control the cameras, then no one will, Night Owl mentally remarked before slowly turning toward Reaper. He didn't know who had broken into the compound. It could have been anyone, but that didn't matter to him. For right now, Night Owl felt furious.
"I don't care what it takes or if the cult's cover is blown," Night Owl began ordering Reaper, "I want everyone you have to get to that compound!"
This could cost him months of planning, but whoever was in the compound needed to be stopped, now!
Once Victoria had raised the partition trapping him in the food court, Midoriya wasted no time sneaking through the compound. Quietly Eri stuck close behind him, with DD taking the lead in front of them. Walking past the mall's stores, Midoriya began finding it a bit more difficult than before. His stunt in the food court had made a lot of noise, so every once and a while he'd run into a dozen guards running toward them.
Whenever it happened, he grabbed Eri and ducked into the closest store. Once they were gone he'd leave the store and keep moving forward. The strategy had worked so far, but only because the guards were more focused on getting to the food court. At the same time, part of him wondered what Snake was up to. Midoriya knew he didn't trigger the alarm, so it had to be Snake's doing.
But then that meant he was caught… he wasn't caught… right? I mean Snake was the Legendary Soldier! Nothing ever stopped him! He… he… Midoriya felt a pair of small hands grab his arm then, the action shaking him out of his thoughts. Looking down he spotted Eri, who was trying to regain his attention. Right, Midoriya thought, Snake was fine, you need to focus on the task at hand.
Wordlessly he pressed forward, watching as DD sniffed the air for threats. After what felt like an eternity, Midoriya arrived at the entrance he and Snake had gone through. Looking around, the area seemed clear. But there was no sign of Snake. Not wanting to waste time, Midoriya rushed through the exit door. He booked it back up the exit's stairs, until he was back on the roof, outside the compound.
Only now did he stop, and take a deep breath. With this brief calm Midoriya pulled out his Idroid.
"Vicky, how are we doing?" he asked, waiting for the AI to reply. Instead, she remained quiet.
"Vicky?" Midoriya asked again, confused. At the same time, he found Eri looking up at him curiously. Through the silence, Eri then looked away and began looking around the rooftop. A tad bit worried, Midoriya snapped his fingers, earning DD's attention. Wordlessly he pointed at Eri, and the dog walked up to her carefully. His focus returned to Vicky though, as the AI still had not replied. That was until his Idroid began to screech.
Quickly Midoriya covered the speakers, though the noise could be heard muffled through his fingers. The loud noise scared Eri for a moment, while DD instantly was put on guard. The noise dissipated eventually, and Midoriya pleaded that no one heard it.
"Vicky?" Midoriya again asked, now becoming worried.
"H-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-hey!" Victoria eventually replied, her words glitchy. The AI's tone fluctuated a dozen times just saying a single word. When her avatar popped up on the Idroid it flickered in and out of existence. It changed shape, height, and color in milliseconds, with Midoriya losing track of how many changes occurred.
"What's happening?" Midoriya asked worriedly, with Victoria struggling to reply.
"V-v-viru-s-s-s!" she yelled, her avatar turning red, then green, then purple, "S-s-na-ke f-found com-p-p-uter! I-i-it t-trap! A-a-a-al-a-rm! L-l-l-o-st c-c-c-amer-a-a-as!"
Snake did set off the alarm, Midoriya realized. But he quickly shook that thought away, as he watched Victoria's avatar struggle to maintain shape.
"H-h-el-l-l-l-l-p m-m-e-" Victoria tried to plead, only for half the letters to filter into static. Quickly Midoriya tried to think of something, desperation becoming clear on his face. Then it hit him.
"Go to the Oasis!" Midoriya told her, hoping he was right. He didn't remember everything, but he remembered Strangelove ran tests on the AIs a few years ago. Just to see what would happen if one was affected by a virus, and how to protect them. Most of the results Midoriya didn't remember. But whenever an AI infected with a virus entered the Oasis, it was simply turned into a regular sickness. Of course, Victoria looked back at Midoriya afraid.
"B-b-but-t mi-ss-i-i-on!" she tried to protest, her voice's octave changing rapidly.
"Forget the mission, go!" Midoriya told her. Hesitantly the AI left, earning a small sigh from Midoriya. He… he was sure she'd be fine. Just focus on the mission. Focus on the mission, Midoriya told himself. Looking around he could see the zipline he and Snake used was still there. It would be difficult, but they could hopefully climb back across. Walking toward the building's edge, he looked down toward the sidewalk.
The plainclothes guards that were there originally were now mostly gone. Likely assisting those inside search the compound. But then Midoriya noticed something odd. While the people surrounding the compound were gone, there were now a large number of people on the streets. And now that he thought about it, he could see the lights of cars coming towards the compound.
A lot more than there had been before… not to mention the… sniper teams… sniper teams! Midoriya quickly ducked behind the building's ledge. It had been hard to see but he saw it! Some small glint of scope, the odd window open in the middle of the night, the random shadow on the rooftop! There had to be a dozen different sniper teams on the buildings across from him.
When did they get here!? Looking toward Eri and DD Midoriya sighed in relief, seeing the two were short enough not to be seen. But that wouldn't last forever. As now Midoriya heard the roar of engines. Carefully peeking over his cover, Midoriya spotted the first of the Ninth Circle's vehicles arrive. Four full vans of cultists jumped out, with each enemy rushing into the building.
Looking back towards the lights on the road, Midoriya paled. They all blurred together as a bright mesh, but there had to be hundreds of vehicles. All heading straight towards him.
Chapter 100: A Midoriya's Firefight
Scrubbing away the last table in his saloon, West couldn't help but smile. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked over the now clean space. Glass mugs soaked in a nearby cauldron, barstools sat polished on the floor, the tables glistened in lanterns' light, and the floor was clean enough to eat off of. It brought West pride to look over his hard work. Sure it might not have been monumental to anything in the real world. It wasn't some groundbreaking establishment.
But though it wasn't real, it mattered to West. This saloon was his, he'd built it all. From the kitchen to the bar, it was all built by him. Rifling through the gold nuggets in his pocket, West hummed to himself quietly. Today had been rather quiet, though the AI knew why. With almost every active duty AI working, the Realmers were left in a practically quiet world. That said, if he was right, then by the time the other AIs get back, there'd be a loud celebration.
So looking outside, up at the Oasis's night sky, West quietly kept preparing for his siblings' return.
"Now then, pool or cards?" West muttered to himself unsure. Though his saloon resembled most of its old-timey counterparts, it did have a few pool tables. It was odd though as all the tables' balls were cubes that somehow rolled across the table. And somehow fit in the pool triangle. He didn't linger on this thought though, instead determining which needed his focus more.
Before he could make a decision though, he spotted Victoria spawn in out of the corner of his eye.
"Huh, mission done already-" he began to ask, before hearing his sister collapse onto the wood floor. West turned toward her concerned, and she soon threw up on the floor. For just a second, West mentally sighed, seeing his once clean floor now ruined. But that thought was gone in an instant as he rushed down toward Victoria.
"Aw hell, you look sicker than ole' Betsy after she ate some soul sand," West commented, remembering the experience the cow had gone through.
"V-virus," Victoria managed to cough out before she gagged again. Whatever was left in her stomach was now covering the floor. The AI shook violently the entire time, likely from the shivers of a fever. Sure enough as West touched her shoulder, Victoria felt as if she was damn near on fire.
"Figured," West muttered, before cycling through his inventory. After a few seconds, he held out three different drinks. A bucket of milk, a bottle of water, and a potion of regeneration.
"Here, drink," West told her, holding them all out a bit closer. Weakly Victoria grabbed all three, the pixelated items resting in her palm gently. Slowly she drank all three, taking small sips from each periodically. Once they were finished, the AI managed to stand up somewhat. Though she wobbled on her feet and still looked like absolute crap. This town needs a damn doctor, West thought tiredly, a Realmer doctor.
"Thanks," Victoria tiredly told him, with West waving it off.
"Don't mention it. Now, let's get you home before you throw up again," West calmly stated, as Victoria slung her arm over his shoulder. Slowly the two walked out of the saloon, Victoria stumbling along the way. Through empty Victorian streets, they walked, passing by the vacant shops and houses under the night sky. Lit up nearby, was the town's protective wall. Gatling guns were mounted atop alongside large cannons, only visible because of the wall's lanterns.
Above it was the ever-present hum, of the Airship Diner flying above town. It was calming, if not for their current predicament. West considered calling out for help but decided against it. Better to let the other Realmers sleep he reasoned. Coming into sight of Victoria's cabin, West felt his sister go slack. She nearly fell to the ground again unconscious, and he had to hold her up carefully.
It was like dragging a sack of potatoes, but West kept forward. Pushing the door to her cabin open, West carefully stepped inside. With quiet care, he carried Victoria to her bedroom and softly placed her in bed. Then just as quietly, he slunk back downstairs and left. West walked back to his saloon, his mind solely focused on getting back to work. Some sleep will do her good, he reasoned.
She'd be up in the morning, and he'd be back with food. So long as she actually stayed in bed, West soon thought warily. Memories no older than a few hours came back to him. Victoria had dropped by the saloon for some words of encouragement from the other AIs. Marston and Texas had given there, as did Colt even though he was focused on R&D's role in the mission. Then everyone had left.
No loud somber fuss, this was just another mission. But of course, Victoria had been on a separate mission from the others. She was with Midoriya, doing hell knows what. West quietly worried about the teen, knowing he was likely on his lonesome now. Not much he could do about it, unfortunately, instead he kept walking. The gravel beneath his feet crunched with every step, his saloon now coming into view.
Yet as West neared the place, he slowly began to notice something. Next to the saloon, was an AI. The AI stood next to a horse hitched to a pole in front of the saloon. With the street lights providing some illumination, West could see the AI dressed in black. He had a long black jacket reaching down to his legs, with a red bandana around his face. Hidden in his jacket was the glint of two Smith and Wesson model 3 revolvers, both with an ivory grip.
What wasn't hidden though, was the Winchester 1873 rifle and Coach gun both slung over his shoulder. West was half expecting the AI to carry a dozen sticks of dynamite too, maybe a tomahawk as well. The biggest thing that stuck out was the large black cowboy hat on his head and his overall body structure. Said hat had a cow skull pinned onto the front, and his body was surprisingly blocky. Quietly West watched the AI but didn't say a word. For the life of him, West could not recognize him.
He had a hundred and forty-nine other siblings, all of them he knew. But this single AI… maybe he was new? Maybe he was completed early by R . But then… there was normally an announcement in the town's paper. There hadn't been one today. As of right now all the unknown AI did, was look at the saloon. Warily West slowly began drawing his Colt 1861 Navy revolver.
"You new here?" West called out cautiously, watching as the unknown AI slowly turned toward him. He drew no weapons, but West could see him tense up.
"You could say that," the AI replied, his voice raspy as if he'd never spoken before. The AI's coat flew open for a moment, unveiling a rose-red vest covered in a bandolier.
"Nice place you have here," the AI complimented, carefully motioned to the door, "You mind if I come in?"
Cautiously West took a step forward, his eyes firmly focused on the unknown AI. He took another, only he moved toward the saloon's door this time.
"Afraid not. Not really open right now," West replied, slowly getting closer to his door.
"Will only take a second. And I am willin' to pay," the AI reasoned before his arm went behind his back. Not being one for combat, West didn't have time to grab his gun when the AI moved. But to his surprise, the AI's hand held a few gold nuggets. Not many, just enough for a beer and a sandwich. Slowly West thought it over. Perhaps he was jumping the gun, he never was a good judge of character.
His hand left his revolver, and he clicked his tongue.
"...Alright," West eventually relented, pushing the door to his saloon open. Rather calmly the unknown AI walked forward, entering quietly. West kept his eye on him the entire time, before entering as well. The second he did, he remembered the vomit on the floor.
"Ah, right," he commented tiredly, seeing the other AI's disgust, "Someone had an incident in here a few minutes ago. I'll get that cleaned in a second."
Wordlessly the unknown AI stepped around the throw-up, before sitting down at the bar. Quietly he looked all over the room, examining it all carefully. It gave everything, the furniture, the lanterns, the paintings on the wall, everything a quick curious gaze. However, he also seemed to be… disgusted by everything. Rude, West mentally commented, before scrubbing up Victoria's leftovers.
Once it was done, he walked around the bar and washed his hands in a cauldron.
"So, what'll it be?" West asked, wiping his hands on a cloth. The other AI didn't say anything, instead looking up at the chalk menu above them. Like the rest of the room, he looked over everything quietly. Every so often he'd stop on an item and look confused.
"A beer and… a hot dog," he'd eventually replied, passing West two gold nuggets. West took both quietly and turned back toward his kitchen. It took little time to get everything. The beer was already made, just stored in a nearby chest. And the hot dog took only a second to make. With both done he passed them to the unknown AI, who looked over both carefully. With a wary gloved hand, the AI grabbed the beer and popped it open.
Slowly he raised it to his mouth and lifted his bandana slightly. Even with it out of the way, it was still difficult for West to see the AI's face. He chugged the beer down fast, before gently placing the bottle on the counter. Soon the AI's focus was on the hot dog, and again, the AI looked at it disgusted.
"Never had a dog before," the AI muttered, quickly becoming surprised as West spoke up.
"It's beef," West corrected, before quietly noting the other AI's surprise, "Like a cow."
"...It's called a hot dog though," the other AI pointed out, with West shrugging.
"I don't get the name either," West replied, watching as the AI carefully grabbed his food. He held it awkwardly in his hand as if he'd never held food before. Just like with his drink, he'd lifted up his bandana to eat. After a second he took his first bite and seemed to like it. It was then West snapped his fingers as he remembered something.
"Ah right, mustard? Ketchup?" West inquired, holding out a bottle of both condiments for the AI.
"...Sure," the AI cautiously replied, watching as West put both condiments on the hot dog. When he was done the AI took another bite, and his eyes widened in surprise. Before West knew it the AI had wolfed down the rest of his food.
"...That… was good," the AI hesitantly complimented, with West smiling widely.
"Glad it's to your liking," West replied, busily grabbing the plate and empty beer bottle. With them in hand, West looked over the AI curiously, while stepping back.
"You a new AI by the way?" West asked curiously, before tossing the plate and beer bottle into the cauldron. The other AI looked over him quietly, slowly standing up from his seat.
"Can't say I am," the AI replied, taking a moment to straighten his hat.
"Oh?" West inquired confused, "Don't remember meetin' you before."
"Likely forgot," the other AI reasoned, before turning and walking toward the door, "Thanks, for the meal."
As he walked he held up a hand, gesturing goodbye. The action emphasized just how blocky the AI looked, as West got a clearer look at his hands. The AI's fingers were like stubby bricks. Warily West followed the AI, but never left the saloon. Instead, he got to work discreetly scrubbing the windows. Quietly the other AI unhitched his horse and hopped on. There in a brief moment, a lantern lit up the AI's face. West still couldn't see much past the bandana, but the other AI was clearly pale.
Practically… gray, and with a big nose… Oh… oh yeah no that's a pillager. That was a talking pillager, now riding off into the distance. West couldn't help but look out the window wide-eyed, watching as the pillager left. How had it even gotten past the gate? How could it even speak!? They and all the other mobs in the world had been getting smarter, but they'd never shown true sentience before. This… West didn't know what to think of this.
"Come on people! Move it!" Aizawa heard a soldier call, while hundreds of others carried crates about. Looking over the warehouse around him, he could hardly believe how much work had been done. Entire shelves had been filled to the top with ordnance of all kinda. Now, it was all pretty much gone. Thousands, upon thousands of rounds had been carried into the sky never to be seen again.
But of course, even with all their work, they were cutting it close. The sun was nowhere near rising yet, but they'd all gotten word on the radio, that All Might had begun answering reporters' questions. At most, every team would have one more hour to get everything out. Once the hour was up, Aizawa didn't know what they'd do. So he instead focused on his work.
His capture scarf proved useful in dragging nearly a dozen boxes at the same time. When the crates got outside, he gave his scarf some slack and watched as the MSF personnel quickly fulton them. With that done he quickly went back inside to grab more. As this happened, he couldn't help but think. It was shocking the Night Owl got so much ordnance into the country.
Being VP, he'd likely have the influence to keep it all quiet… but the MSF's intel said he'd done this long before he became VP. Night Owl had been planning everything for a decade, including the Sports Festival. That kind of dedication worried Aizawa. Should the MSF fully cripple Night Owl today, would he just wait another decade? Or would he lash out at the world? Then again, the MSF said the mad scientist had always planned ahead. Who's to say he didn't have a backup plan? There was little he truly knew of the villain, so anything could be on the table.
Aizawa could only take a deep breath at the thought, before refocusing on the weapons left in the warehouse. All the armored vehicles had been extracted already, so the only things left were crates of guns, ammo, or explosives. Looking over one crate, Aizawa's eyes couldn't help but linger on it. To think… weapons like these had already killed thousands. To think his students could have died that day…
"One of them is dead," a dark thought pointed out, echoing through Aizawa's head. As if things weren't bad enough.
"Shut up," Aizawa mentally ordered, only for his mind to keep wandering.
"Because of us no less," the thought commented, before sadly muttering, "We should have done more. The one time you don't have to coddle a student, you do nothing,"
The thought lingered in his head for a moment, as Fudaki came back to his memory. The boy's actions had been red flags from the beginning. Signs he needed to be set straight. And Aizawa had ignored each and every one of them. All through the belief that his sink-or-swim lesson style would humble him. He was foolish to ever believe it would happen, the same with Bakugo, Todoroki, and who else knows over the years.
"He isn't…" he weakly tried to protest. He couldn't even deny the kid was dead anymore. Aizawa's brain just wouldn't allow it, not since the Festival.
"There is a method to my madness," Aizawa eventually argued. Were his thoughts conscious, they would have scoffed at him.
"What method?" his thoughts inquired, "We both didn't want this job, but I had the decency of taking it seriously."
"How am I not taking it seriously? Everything I do is geared toward pushing the students to do their best," Aizawa protested, before remembering the mission at hand. Quietly he walked forward and grabbed another crate of guns.
"By doing nothing," his thoughts countered, "You don't encourage or push them to do anything. You make them do a task, tell them nothing about it, take a nap, and then berate them when they fail."
"You're just my own thoughts! You did the exact same thing!" Aizawa mentally yelled, carefully dropping the crate off.
"Nowadays I do!" his thoughts argued, earning a mental groan from Aizawa, "But don't you remember how we were before?"
The thought made Aizawa pause, his brain unintentionally digging up old memories. He wanted to argue that he was always this way, but his mind knew otherwise. Aizawa remembered the first class he ever taught. He'd shown up to class exhausted beyond belief, but still made an effort to go over every student's name and quirk. He'd illogically taken them to orientation and answered whatever question they had. Aizawa was still his tired grumpy self, but… he'd actually done crap before.
He'd held students back after class to talk with them. He'd given them all small pointers on what to improve. He'd booked tutoring hours for students who asked for them. He'd done so much more before. Yet Aizawa gritted his teeth quietly. All of that had been done, so they wouldn't end up like… Oboro…
"All we were doing, was coddling them," Aizawa argued back, "You know how it ended for that class."
He didn't want to think about it any longer, so before his thoughts could retort, Aizawa grabbed another crate and focused on his task. Carrying it outside, he set the crate down gently and stepped back. A group of soldiers then rushed over and fultoned it. To Aizawa's surprise though, that was the last crate in the building. He turned ready to find more, only to see the entire place was empty.
"We're done here people!" a soldier loudly ordered, "Fulton, all of you!"
One by one Aizawa spotted balloons lift into the air, soldiers attached to each one. Not wanting to be left behind, Aizawa quietly did the same to himself and lazily felt himself drift into the air.
Midoriya didn't know what to do. Staying hidden behind the building's ledge, he could feel himself panicking as more vehicles arrived below him. Hundreds of cultists filed out, though none made any notion of attacking. Instead, they moved quietly, trying to keep everything discreet. If Midoriya had to guess, they didn't want anyone learning of the compound.
Things go loud, and they lose their FOB in Tokyo. To Midoriya's surprise, he didn't want them to lose it either. If the police or the media suddenly had eyes on this place, then so did Night Owl and the HPSC. Now the world knows the MSF was conducting uncontracted black ops. With the public on their good side, that was not what they needed. Not to mention any valuable intel they could still find would be destroyed. Quietly Midoriya tried thinking up a plan of action.
Yet none came to him, at least none that he liked. With his Pitviper in hand, Midoriya had one idea. He'd run out, and create some noise. Gain the Ninth Circle's attention on him, and away from the compound. Should heroes come to intervene, the compound would be left alone. However, he would be leaving Eri alone. Cautiously Midoriya looked toward the small girl, who at this point stuck to the ground next to DD.
He just couldn't think of anything else. And… Snake should be here soon. She'd be safe, Midoriya reasoned, while taking a few deep breaths. If not, DD was a very capable dog.
"Eri," he quietly called out, seeing the girl turn toward him, "Stay here. It's going to get loud, so stay quiet, and cover your ears."
It took Eri a second to process everything, but she quickly complied.
"Ok," she replied, her hands now covering her ears. With that done, Midoriya took a deep breath. He holstered his Pitviper in favor of his M4 and slowly stood up. Silently he begged that his lessons from Nagant would be enough, before jumping off the ledge of the building. He didn't know if the sniper teams across the street had spotted him, so Midoriya moved fast and shot his grappling hook at a nearby building.
He couldn't dodge gunfire but could dodge the man aiming the gun. The grappling hook yanked him toward the wall like usual, at a worryingly fast speed. Nearing the wall Midoriya heard a bullet whizz by his previous position. Figures they have silencers, Midoriya thought annoyed. Before he could slam into the wall, Midoriya activated the exo's thruster pack. It lifted him enough to pass over the wall and roll onto the roof. Retracting the hook from the wall, Midoriya quickly kept running and jumped off the roof again.
By this point, the sniper team should have alerted the others of his presence. And sure enough, as he looked over his shoulder, the vehicles had stopped heading for the compound. Good, Midoriya thought, before ducking behind a low wall. There he took a deep breath to think. Now that their attention was on him, he needed to keep it. Thankfully he found his solution when he heard voices pipe up below him.
"You're sure he came this way?" a cultist asked from the ground, with Midoriya cautiously moving toward the roof's edge.
"That's what the snipers said," another cultist replied, as Midoriya looked down at them. Below a small group of six men busily searched an open alleyway, unaware of Midoriya's presence.
"We even know who's doing this?" the first cultist asked, with the second shaking his head.
"Nope," the second cultist replied, "Could be a vigilante for all we know."
Something like that, Midoriya mentally commented, holding his M4 ready. Carefully he unscrewed the silencer from his barrel and placed it in his bag. This needed to be loud. Quickly Midoriya jumped off the roof, now plunging to the ground. As he fell he activated his jump pack and pushed himself toward a building's wall. It notified the thugs below and got him close enough to wall run by.
"There!" was the only thing a cultist could say before Midoriya opened fire. Dozens of rounds flew towards the thugs, and none of them had time to duck for cover. Bullets tore them all apart, as Midoriya felt himself lose momentum on the wall. So before he completely fell he shot his grappling hook upwards. But instead of pulling himself up, he swung down the alleyway at blistering speed.
At the other end of the alleyway, two more cultists moved to block his path. It did little, as he swung by overhead, and dropped a grenade next to them. Both thugs yelled out in pain when the explosive went off, bits of shrapnel quickly tearing them to shreds. At the same time, Midoriya retracted his grappling hook back toward him and fell to the ground in a roll. Booking it across the street, he found more cultists begin to arrive.
By now they'd dropped the civilian clothes in favor of more heavy armaments. One such van rolled onto the street and unloaded eight cultists, all with Type-20 assault rifles. All of them moved to open fire, but Midoriya was just too fast. As bullets flew by, he constantly grappled across the street or used his jump pack to run along the walls. When that wasn't an option, he just ran. With his exo enhancing his speed, none of the cultists could keep their weapons trained on him long enough, before he'd pop up somewhere else.
Which proved to be their undoing, as Midoriya held down the trigger of his M4. Just like before dozens of rounds shot out, and tore into the cultists with ease. Those that survived quickly ducked into cover behind lone cars. This did little to help them, as Midoriya aimed his grapple at a vacant building. In seconds he was being dragged upwards, where he would retract his grappling hook, adjust his position with his jump pack, and shoot the grappling hook into another building.
And before the thugs had time to react, Midoriya was now behind them. There they turned, attempting to fight back, only to be gunned down in seconds. Midoriya was ashamed to admit it, but the entire thing felt exhilarating. The wind rushing through his hair, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, it all felt amazing. Constantly moving all over the place, and with such ease too!
He… he felt like he was in an action movie or he was a video game character. He felt like a pilot from Titanfall or Rico Rodriguez. It didn't matter who exactly but it just felt amazing. Constantly moving, never stopping. There definite improvements he could make though, as Midoriya skidded onto his knees after a bad landing. But he was doing well. Especially after he swiped a cultist's pistol, and decided to dual wield. It was impractical as hell, but he was beginning to see why Ocelot did it so often.
Landing back onto the ground Midoriya tossed out his two empty pistol mags and quickly reloaded both guns. Looking around the street, he could see he was a little too successful in his mission. Now every vehicle he spotted from the compound, was heading toward him. The sheer mass of oncoming lights made Midoriya believe it was daytime. Dozens of vehicles came to a stop, one being a technical with a ZPU-4 bolted on.
Moving quickly Midoriya grappled away, just as the AA-gun began firing. None of the rounds came close, as he darted through the air. Cultists surrounding the gun moved to try and stop him, but their shots were too late as well. Midoriya, spotting one cultist ready an RPG, quickly dropped back to the ground. Running and ducking, he shot out his grappling hook toward the cultist.
The hook dug into the RPG's body, and Midoriya yanked it out of the thug's hand. Catching the weapon, Midoriya had his jump pack launched into the air. Gaining some height, he aimed down at the truck below and aimed the RPG. Firing, Midoriya felt himself get launched backward slightly, as he fell back to the ground. At the same time the rocket dove downwards, and crashed into the truck.
Screams rang out as the ZPU-4's ammo was cooked off in the blast, killing the cultists around the vehicle. Still falling, Midoriya shot out his grappling hook and again swung across the street.
If there was one thing All Might couldn't stand during interviews, it was the… creative questions reporters would have. Sure, he'd never had a problem talking about his likes and interests with the public. But they tended to get rather… weird the longer interviews went on. Such as one interviewer began questioning his underwear preferences, his dental habits, and whether he believed the moon, not the earth he made an oddly special effort to clarify, that the moon was flat.
"I'm not answering that, I brush twice and floss every day, and no, it isn't flat," All Might calmly told the reporter, this interview already grating his mind. He'd had long interviews before, but this was dragging on for a while. The reporters had him for a final hour, and they were damn sure trying to use every second of it. Quietly All Might looked at the crowd and spotted a hundred different people, all with questions ready.
He kept his smile wide and present but mentally sighed as he chose someone to speak.
"Uh… yes you," All Might stated, the reporter soon standing up.
"What's the progress on the new All Might Freedom Flavored ice cream?" the reporter calmly asked, with All Might quietly thinking it over. That… was actually a good question. His agency had commissioned its own ice cream company weeks ago, and the announcement had garnered millions of people asking for ice cream samples. The very first flavor had been taste-tested by All Might, and he honestly thought it was delicious. But then they'd hit delays with the Festival attack… hmm…
"As it stands, the ice cream will reach store shelves. We've hit some delays due to the Musutafu Massacre, but they are being dealt with quickly," All Might calmly explained, "Now then, next question-"
As he spoke an explosion rang out in the distance. It wasn't overly loud or large, but almost everyone heard it. All Might begged for it to have been fireworks, but then he heard more gunshots filter in from the distance. It sent a loud murmur to the crowd before people slowly started to panic. Heroes scrambled around All Might in an attempt to keep people calm. The entire time All Might looked on confused.
Quickly he ran off the stage toward Miller. Reaching backstage he looked around quietly before spotting the commander sitting next to Star and Stripe of all people.
"There's gunfire out here," All Might quickly stated, while rushing toward Miller. Miller simply looked back at him confused, but quickly leapt to his feet. The commander looked over his Idroid but didn't seem to find anything.
"Not us," Miller relayed worried, "The perimeter here is still secure."
"It could be another attack," Star seemed to reason, with All Might in quiet agreement. Now of all times.
"This is the cult's doing, it has to be," All Might muttered, before tearing off his tie. In a few short seconds, he felt One for All come back to him. His muscle form came to fruition in its usual puff of smoke, and All Might quickly began walking away.
"The interview is done. I'm going out there," All Might calmly stated, giving Miller a brief glance. The commander just nodded, before Star and Stripe moved to follow him.
"Oughta be fun," she commented dryly before All Might leaped into the air.
As Midoriya swung through the air again, feeling rounds whizz by him, he could tell this might have been a mistake. Overhead a helicopter moved to try and intercept him. Mounted onto it were two Type-62 machine guns, both manned by door gunners. The moment both door gunners saw him, they opened up. Hundreds of rounds flew his way, as cultists below him fired as well. Midoriya constantly grappled in the air, his exo's jump pack moving him through the air.
He was unable to rest even for a second. Eventually, rounds managed to strike him. One 7.62 round dug into his chest, not penetrating his sneaking suit. But Midoriya could feel the impact break some ribs. Now breathing became worryingly difficult. Another round grazed his arm and cracked part of his exo. Not wanting to deal with the helicopter anymore, Midoriya shot his grappling hook toward the vehicle.
In seconds the hook stabbed into the helicopter's belly, and Midoriya pulled himself up. Hanging upside down the helicopter, Midoriya wasted no time, slapping C4 bricks he'd stolen onto the aircraft. Once they were in place he dropped off the helicopter and detonated the explosives. The aircraft was quickly engulfed in flames, its frame now falling out of the sky. After a moment it crashed into the street, crushing a few more cultists on the ground.
Landing hard on the ground, Midoriya heard the crack of bone. He cringed in pain, feeling his right leg yell at him. Forcing himself up, Midoriya looked around the street. This couldn't go on forever, Midoriya thought to himself. What was he even thinking!? A garbage truck rammed through the burning helicopter, and Midoriya jumped out of the vehicle's way. Quickly Midoriya ran, grabbing a lone Nissan LAM off the ground. Before any cultists could disembark he fired the rocket.
Soon the garbage truck was no more, and Midoriya gasped for air. His right leg yelled at him in pain again, and Midoriya could feel his lungs struggling. Silently he pleaded that was the last of them, even as impossible as it was. His pleading was answered seconds later, by a faint clink of metal. Instantly Midoriya's eyes widened, and he grappled away. In seconds a GAU-19 began firing, thousands of .50 BMG rounds now tearing apart the street Midoriya just stood on.
It didn't end as the stream of bullets followed Midoriya as he went. There was no time to rest as he ducked behind cars, grappled and swung across rooftops, and narrowly boosted his way out of death. Looking around Midoriya quickly spotted the source of the gunfire. Walking toward the middle of the street, was a massive cultist, practically nine feet tall. He was covered head to toe in ballistic plates, all painted to look like bones.
With two hands he guided the GAU-19 toward Midoriya, never being fast enough to get on target, but always being far too close for Midoriya's liking. Eventually, the gunfire came to a stop, the giant thug letting his weapon cool. With this brief moment, Midoriya looked for some spot to hide and spotted an AC unit on a nearby roof. Before the thug could see him Midoriya grappled up and slid behind it.
"Fun's over brat!" the cultist eventually shouted, seemingly ready to start firing again. The large man looked around him carefully, and Midoriya stayed as still as possible. If he could just get a moment to breathe-
"Hiding… I can play this game too kid!" the thug loudly taunted, "You're not hiding from me!"
Midoriya wanted to doubt that thought. But then he'd heard a hauntingly familiar whirring noise. Looking up, Midoriya barely noticed the loitering munitions flying above him. He had little time before the first drone slammed into the roof next to him. Bits of shrapnel tore past him, digging into his arms and legs. More of his exo broke, its outer protective layer splintering and bending. Not waiting for the second drone Midoriya ran and grappled away from the rooftop.
"Got you now!" he heard the large thug exclaim. With nothing but a glance, he spotted the man looking over a large tablet. Carefully the thug had the drones follow him through the air. When he became bored, he hoisted his GAU back up and fired at Midoriya again. Now Midoriya dropped to the ground, running past vacant cars for cover. Drones slammed into the pavement behind him, while the large thug kept firing.
Coming to an open space, Midoriya grappled back into the air, while aiming his M4 at the large thug. Flying by he held down the trigger, uncaring for accuracy. The large thug didn't bother moving as bullets struck him. Midoriya's magazine clicked empty, and he mentally swore before reloading. All the while his limbs yelled in agony. He ran off nothing but adrenaline and spite at this point.
More rounds slammed into the area around him, and Midoriya soon returned fire again. Again he held down the trigger, watching as bullets struck the large thug. In cases like this, accuracy didn't matter. He couldn't miss the massive target in front of him. But with all the body armor he wore, it'd be impossible to actually harm him easily. So Midoriya did the one thing he could, attempt to wear the thug down.
There was no such thing as bulletproof in this world. Shoot anything enough times, and it will break. It was with this logic Midoriya emptied a third magazine from his rifle. It was faint, but he could see some of the plates beginning to crack.
"Come on! This is pointless!" the thug shouted, holding down the trigger on his GAU all the while. More bullets flew by, and Midoriya slid behind yet another car. This time he dropped low to the ground. The thug not noticing, fired above Midoriya, assuming he was still running. With that brief moment, Midoriya reloaded his M4 again and jumped to his feet. Running in the other direction he began searching for anything useful.
His eyes soon found an M82 resting on a rooftop. The remnant of a sniper team that had attempted to ambush him. With his target found Midoriya grappled toward it, with the thug now spotting him. He grumbled loudly and brought his weapon to bear on Midoriya again.
"Just stay still already!" the thug ordered angrily, while Midoriya soared up to the roof again. Landing hard, he ignored the searing pain and booked it across the roof. Sliding for a second he scooped up the M82 and jumped off the roof. In the air, his boost pack twisted him around. Aiming the M82, Midoriya took a struggling breath and pulled the trigger. The recoil pushed him pack in the air, and only his jump pack kept him from tumbling out of control.
The .50 BMG round soared through the air effortlessly and crashed into the thug's GAU-19. It tore through the gun's barrels, disabling it permanently. In response, the thug tossed it aside and brought back his tablet. There Midoriya saw more drones fly into his air space, and quickly rush toward him. Mentally panicking Midoriya shot his grappling hook toward the ground and pulled himself downward.
He could feel his knees buckle and his unbroken leg shatter once he hit the ground. Now not even adrenaline was enough to keep him going. He limped away from the oncoming swarm, shooting down what few he could. Silently Midoriya wished Victoria was still here. He wished Snake was here. He wished anyone was here. Instead, he felt himself get knocked off his feet as another drone exploded behind him.
What was left of his exo was torn apart now. Only the thing's wires kept it all together. Painful, Midoriya tore it off piece by piece. Turning around he spotted the thug still holding the tablet closely. With one last idea, Midoriya cut off the limbs of his exo. With only the thing's spine, he chucked it toward the thug. The cultist, effortlessly caught it, barely glancing at Midoriya.
"Pitiful," he muttered, looking over the exo carefully. Just what Midoriya wanted, with his Pitviper drawn, he aimed at the exo's battery. Pulling the trigger, he watched the bullet punch straight into its target. It took a second after it made contact, but the battery exploded seconds later. Flaming battery acid engulfed the thug for a second, and the man yelled in pain. Watching the sight, Midoriya slowly felt the last of his adrenaline wear off. His body collapsed to the floor.
Every one of Midoriya's limbs yelled at him in pain. He could barely feel his legs, and only one of his arms willed itself to move. Desperately he rolled over and tried to crawl into a nearby alley for cover. Instead, he felt a large hand grab him by the neck.
"You little shit," the large thug muttered, as Midoriya looked over him. Most of his ballistic plates had been cracked. His right arm held Midoriya in the air effortlessly. Yet the limb had been burnt to a crisp, going down to exposed muscle and tendons. The rest of the man was in a similar fashion, covered in burns and broken body armor. But overall, it didn't bother him. His hand wrapped around Midoriya's neck tightly. Adding onto his broken limbs, Midoriya found himself gasping for air desperately.
His vision grew blurry, and he tried clawing at the man's hand. But only Midoriya's left arm obeyed the call.
"You are not worthy of Reaper's mercy," the thug grumbled angrily, though his strangling told Midoriya otherwise. Around him more cultists began arriving, seeing the fight was now over. Hundreds surrounded him and the large thug. All looked at him with disdain and hatred. Midoriya didn't care less, instead scratching the thug's exposed muscle. In a flash, he drew and stabbed his knife into the man's wrist.
Still, it did nothing. His lungs begged for air and got none. Midoriya's vision slowly began to fade. The world around him grew darker, and his last limb went slack. Everything seemed to go in slow motion then, as Midoriya thought over everything. He felt the wind rushing by his face, giving him a small breeze. Yet just as Midoriya began to black out, he saw someone's fist slam into the thug's face.
Midoriya blinked… or… had he fully blacked out? Midoriya didn't fully know. What he did know, was that the massive cultist was now fifty feet away from him, his head buried into the pavement. He also felt someone holding him, as Midoriya struggled to regain lost breath. Looking around, he could see the cultists quickly stepping back, while dozens of others opened fire. To Midoriya's confusion though, not a single round seemed to hit him. Instead, a bright blue glass-like bubble popped up in front of him.
Slowly Midoriya turned to look upwards and spotted All Might's wide grin looking back at him.
"All… Might…" Midoriya couldn't help but mutter, with All Might giving his usual boisterous laugh in response.
"Worry not, Young Akatani!" All Might loudly proclaimed, "We can take it from here."
Midoriya didn't know who we was until he turned slightly and spotted Star and Stripe standing next to All Might. The woman took a second to crack her knuckles before she took a deep breath. At the same time, All Might carefully placed Midoriya on a nearby bench, and passed him his 9mm Pitviper and what looked to be a pipebomb. Then in a flash, both heroes disappeared.
It was only for a minute though, as that was all they needed. By the time Midoriya's codec began to ring, All Might was back. And the cult was running.