Chapter 103: A Scientist's Desperation
Snake was very annoyed. Right after his little chat with Night Owl, Miller had called and messaged him again. Through the R and Intel team AIs' diligent work, they'd quickly gone over every scrap of data Victoria had acquired from Night Owl. So as he entered the MSF's command center, Snake was already rushing himself to leave. The sooner he could check up on Midoriya, the better.
Walking through some of the command center's halls, he heard the news playing on some TV screens.
"And in other news, Brazilian President Bruno Alves, Ukrainian President Yana Shevchenko, Colombian President Lucas Rojas, and Polish President Konrad Nowak have agreed to attend discussions with the MSF. This comes after both leaders floated the idea of sending troops to help reinforce Outer Heaven's frontline-" an anchor stated, with Snake barely paying attention to the rest of it.
All it did was remind him of how much stuff was already on his plate. He still had to go before the UN, talk with the President-Elect, discuss weapon sales with the Philippines, and go over those bullets Eri had with her. So quietly he pushed on, entering the main operations room. There he spotted Miller and Soul waiting for him by the holo table. Miller seeing him took off his glasses for a moment, before carefully wiping them with a rag.
"About time," he commented, before leaning forward in his chair, "How's Izuku?"
"He's fine. Shot to hell, but he'll live," Snake replied, his impatience unintentionally leaking into his tone. His words did seem to give Miller and Soul some comfort though. The commander sighed in relief, and Soul texted his son. Sitting down across from them, Snake heard the same news anchor from before continuing to talk.
"When asked, President Nowak stated that Outer Heaven's national security was tantamount to their international goals. That only with strong allies, can there be a safer world," the anchor explained, right as Miller shut the broadcast off. At the same time, Snake rapidly tapped the table, wondering just how long this would take.
"He should be up by now," Snake muttered, with Miller looking back apologetically.
"Ah. No beating around the bush then," Miller decided, before turning toward Soul quickly, "What have we got?"
Soul, seeing the rush Snake was in, instantly had the files up on the holotable's display.
"For the most part, we're not entirely sure," Soul replied, switching the holo table over a few files, "The majority of the data's been corrupted. For some files, we've managed to put bits and pieces together, but that's about it."
Snake grumbled at the answer, watching as file names flipped through the table's holograms. They'd gotten some project names, but they were all equally vague. Two of them were labeled Icarus and Zeus, a third was titled Project, and a fourth was called Episode Two. The longer Soul went through files, the more nonsensical some project names got. To Snake, they could have been anything.
Battle plans, research data, base locations, troop numbers, financial records, weapon prototypes, and perhaps even his main plan. Yet none of that could be determined. This was beginning to feel like a waste of time. That was until Soul continued.
"That said, the data that hasn't been corrupted is…" Soul added, chuckling slightly, excited by what was to come, "Well, it's a damn treasure trove."
He switched to a new file, and Snake instantly saw what he meant. The very first thing Soul unveiled was a video file from nine years ago. It was the first inter-dimensional experiment Night Owl had made. Snake didn't dare watch it, lest he feel his blood begin to boil, but that alone was monumental. It wasn't the only video either, as from the data Victoria had gathered, there were over four hundred videos.
All were detailing some kind of experiment. Then Soul switched to a new set of files, and it made Snake's eye widen. Before him laid the exact piece of intel the MSF had been needing, a complete count of the Ninth Circle's members.
"Good lord," Miller commented shocked, with Soul nodding in agreement.
"Cult's been busy," Snake muttered to himself while slumping into his chair. In total, the Ninth Circle totaled over two hundred thousand members. And through the documents Soul brought up, that was after the Massacre. It was a large force, one Snake dreaded having to fight. But it provided him some semblance of calm. For one, two hundred thousand members did not mean two hundred thousand combat troops.
With how secretive the Ninth Circle was, it was clear the vast majority of their members' jobs were just keeping the organization running. They maintained weapons and bases, managed the Cult's funds, likely acquired medical training, gathered intel, or covered up the Cult's presence. And the documents before him confirmed this. Sixty percent of the cult was dedicated to logistical matters. Leaving around eighty thousand combat troops.
Still a lot, but in comparison, the MSF had around one point two million combat troops out of three million. Of which four hundred thousand were in the army and two hundred and fifty thousand were in the Marine Corps. To have a concrete number on just how many cultists there were… it was game-changing. Sure the number could increase or decrease over time, but as of right now, they knew how many people they were dealing with.
"This is good," Snake stated, a small smirk now on his face, "Anything else on there? Any locations of interest?"
Soul nodded in response, before switching the holotable's feed to a large map.
"A few. Found a couple of bases the Ninth Circle has scattered across the country," Soul replied, with Snake finding it all too perfect. The scientist then flipped over a few more files, some detailing more of Night Owl's research, others hiding possible projects he'd abandoned over time. Eventually, Soul had run out of things to show them.
"Everything else should be sent to your Idroid," Soul finished, with Snake nodding tiredly. He stood up from his chair with a slight groan, stretching his back for a moment.
"Great," Snake commented, before turning toward Miller, "This could have been an email you know."
Miller clicked his tongue at the words, a hesitant look coming over him. It instantly made Snake suspicious, his one eye slowly squinting.
"Well… there was something else," Miller muttered, as Snake slowly sat back down. The implication of his tone did nothing to help Snake's mood. If anything, the longer Miller spoke, the more Snake wanted to book it out of the room.
"During All Might's speech, the US Government sent… a representative asking to talk with you," Miller explained, Snake's mouth quickly shifting into a frown.
"Said that the current administration was interested in working with us," Miller told him, moving to pull up something on the holo table. Though Snake didn't care.
"Not happening," Snake quickly replied, watching as Miller held up his hands in protest.
"Snake-" Miller tried to argue before Snake interrupted him.
"It's not happening," Snake told him through gritted teeth. It earned an annoyed groan from Soul, the scientist bringing a hand to his brow.
"Are we not even going to consider the idea?" he inquired, with Snake shaking his head.
"We're not," Snake answered, with Miller scoffing seconds later.
"This is absurd," Miller muttered, now motioning to some holographic files, "They're offering intel, more funding, collaborative research efforts with the rest of NATO! They want MSF officers as military observers for crying out loud! We're being given a foot in the door with the rest of the international community! Why are we not pursuing this?"
"You know damn well why!" Snake exclaimed, his hands slamming onto the holo table, "All of this could be nothing but a farce. Some kind of trick by the HPSC to have us let our guard down."
Both China and Russia were involved, and neither nation had particularly good relations with Japan. Yet the HPSC still had agreements made with their governments. Two of the world's nuclear powers were profiting off the chaos and death the hero industry had built. There was no doubt in Snake's mind that the United States was doing the same.
"For the love of-" Miller began to mutter, only for Snake to interrupt him again.
"They're a global superpower, Kaz, there is no logical way the HPSC's actions have gotten past them," Snake reasoned, before slowly noticing his hands felt sticky, "They're a part of it."
Slowly he removed his palms from the holo table and found bits of glass cutting into his palms. Snake grumbled at the sight, as he watched the table struggle to hold up its hologram. Feeling the pain of the glass dig into his hands, Snake couldn't help but feel angry. This was not his United States of America. This was not the same government that uncaringly threw away The Boss's life for their own hides.
This was not the same nation that sent him to kill his own mother, that nearly let the world fall to annihilation not once but three separate times. In Cuba, in Tselinoyarsk, and in Nicaragua. All because they and the Soviet Union, and before them all the damn Philosophers, had to keep playing god. And Zero! Even Zero had contributed to it all! This was not the same government, but you know, Snake could hardly see a difference.
History in this world, while with some changes, still played out almost exactly like his world's. This US government had done all the same actions his had.
"I'm not… I'm not going to work for that kind of government, not again," Snake told him, taking a moment to wipe the blood off his hands, "And I'm sure as hell not gonna throw away my men's life for their ambitions!"
All this time he'd spent following The Boss's will, and he'd done a crap job of it. Snake never set out to change the world, to shape it into his own making. All he'd done these years was seeking to stop Night Owl. Yet the MSF's existence forced it to change anyway. He'd failed on that part of her will. But for the other part of her will, Snake would never stop fighting for it.
The Boss wanted a world that let people be free, that let them make their own choices. She wanted a world where allies didn't have to kill each other for someone else's ambitions. And so long as Snake lived, he'd protect that freedom. In Outer Heaven, and wherever else the MSF was called on. He wasn't going to let China, Russia, the US, or any other country use his men's lives, their freedoms, for their aims.
Miller by this point looked up at Snake tiredly. He looked ready to keep the argument going but ultimately slouched in his seat. The both of them would doubtlessly be bickering for hours. While Miller could see Snake's point, he also saw a business opportunity. One that would help the entire MSF on an unheard-of scale. Still, he relented.
"Can we at least agree to a meeting?" Miller asked, watching as Snake carefully pulled a piece of glass from his palm, "This is the third time they've tried to arrange talks. I guarantee there will be a fourth or fifth time."
"On top of meeting with the UN?" Snake inquired, with Miller quickly nodding.
"With how impatient they're being, I'd say yes," Miller told him, causing Snake to think for a moment. Miller wasn't entirely wrong. The US Secretary of State had yet to leave Japan, and he'd been trying every trick in the book to try and talk with Snake. As of now, Snake has successfully avoided him. However, it was getting annoying. If things went on any longer, who's to say the US didn't try more underhanded tactics?
"Fine," Snake replied tiredly, "I'll go to Washington in a week."
For the CCP General Secretary and President Bai Li, things were not going well. The newest leader of China, Li, was a little on the skinny side. His face was clean-shaven and ultimately unremarkable. To anyone else, he resembled a generic businessman, his only unique attribute being his terracotta hand. And compared to the rest of the CCP he was surprisingly young, only being forty-five years old. Though he didn't look at it.
The last decade had been a nightmare to deal with, as China fell into economic stagnation on an unheard-of scale. While the hero industry and the recent sales of military equipment were helping, this seemed to matter little. At the same time, corruption had led to a large series of public scandals. The majority of which were covered up, but not enough to stop the public outrage.
A petrochemical plant was forcing workers to live at the job site, with it being "encouraged" for workers to complete a twelve-hour shift. For six days a week, giving them a seventy-two-hour work week. All for low pay, that barely covered food costs. Which brought up another issue, food. Though Li and his party claimed everything was fine, food standards had dropped dramatically.
Through both corruption and general propaganda attempts, vegetables were covered in formaldehyde to make them seem fresh and healthy to the outside world. To save costs, the meat industry would mix their products with cornstarch and mountains of chemicals to create more "meat" as it were. Or in a few cases, cooking oil and water were transported in chemical tanker trucks. With those trucks oftentimes not being washed before transport.
There were a million other cases, across a million other industries. Chinese electric cars were faulty and prone to explode, videos of police dragging innocent people off the street for shakedowns emerged, officials were found siphoning funds from banks, workers' rights were being trampled, housing was ludicrously expensive, food was unhealthy if not deadly, the birthrate was still falling, water was running out, and violent crime was on the rise. But all of this was being dealt with. Police brutality stories were being covered up, as were corruption allegations against party officials.
Videos of chemical-soaked food or burning cars were taken down, and the people posting them were arrested. And with them came token promises that the issue would be fixed and that China would stand strong. For the most part, all of these issues just bubbled under the surface. Still there, but capable of being dealt with or just being left to simmer. But then,Fánróng happened.
It was here Li grumbled to himself, as he heard the loud chants from protestors outside Zhongnanhai's walls. He had the security footage of the demonstrators up on a TV, quietly watching it all.
"Wu He! Xú Cheng! Gāo Jia! TángHàorán-" On and on they chanted, listing out name after name. Five hundred in total. NowFánróng was an elementary school in Hefei. Construction started in May 2283 and finished in September of the same year, right at the start of the school year. The builders said it would last years. It collapsed on May 9th, 2284. Inspectors and parents had warned the government that the building was falling apart.
That the building's insulation was shoddy, that the electrical systems were prone to sparking, that the paint off the walls was falling off. City officials, and Li included, did not care. With winter the "tofu dreg" lining the walls was slowly beginning to crumble away, leaving the wall's support structure exposed to the elements. Come May 9th, the entire building collapsed.
The CCP had done everything to clamp down on the story. State media focused on peddling more positive news from across the country, independent journalists were bribed or arrested, families were bullied or dragged into silence, and all mentions of the school's existence were marked in black ink. To Li, the issue seemed done with. But the story kept popping up, over and over again.
It was like a damn cockroach. And with it being right off the heels of the Musutafu Massacre and the First World revealing their armories had been looted, distrust in the Chinese Government was now at an all-time over the TV in his office, Li got a better look at the protests and frowned. Every person out there carried some large wooden sign or paper banner.
Each one was decorated with the face of a child or teacher who'd died, along with over a dozen anti-government messages. Looking down at his watch, Li waited a few moments, before he heard the sound of screaming. Sirens followed, and with a glance, he spotted riot police finally cracking down on the protestors. For leniency's sake, he'd allowed them to protest in front of the cameras. All to say "See? We are a free and fair government" in front of the cameras.
But by now, said cameras should be turned away. Leaving the continuation of this protest, undesirable.
"This is an illegal gathering! Disperse now!" he heard an officer order over a megaphone the noise reaching him from outside the building. However, the protestors didn't listen to him, instead continuing to chant.
"Wu He! Xú Cheng! Gāo Jia! TángHàorán-" they shouted in unison before screaming took hold again. This time Li spotted what was happening, and watched as the first riot officers began beating protestors senselessly. No one was safe from it. Not the elderly, the young, women, or children. The door to his office opened then, and Li gave it a quick glance.
"General Secretary," his assistantSòng calmly greeted,"The documents you requested."
Gently the man placed them on his desk, before taking a moment to readjust his glasses.
"Ah, yes, thank you," Li replied, though he didn't leave his spot by the window. Instead, he kept watching the TV before him. Blood now stained the streets surrounding Zhongnanhai, causing Li to grumble.
"Idiotic, all of it," he muttered, knowing the money they'd have to spend just to fix everything. While an officer dragged an old woman to an all-black van, Li shut off the TV. With a sigh, he looked back towardSòng and ran a hand through his hair.
"Sòng, tell me, what do you think of all of this… nonsense occurring outside?" Li inquired, now grabbing the files Sòng had brought it.
"Well, I find it rather troubling sir," Sòng replied, in a somewhat uncaringly professional tone, "Such public displays risk bringing instability."
"That they do," Li murmured in agreement, while quietly reading over the file. He tried to seem interested in it, and he was for the most part, but the protest outside bugged him. There would be more, there would always be more. The harder he cracked down on them the more they'd pop up. The problem was that anything less meant giving up power. If he showed leniency for even a moment, they'd start stripping him of legal authority, allowing his opponents in the CCP to pounce.
"The country needs a distraction, sir," Sòng commented, somehow knowing what Li was thinking.
"It does," Li muttered, slowly bringing his hand to his chin. A distraction was easier said than done. It was what the country needed, but it had to be a good distraction. Big enough that the people willingly ignore what Li doesn't want them to see. Of course, that was something Li didn't have. He could see the old world order was coming to an end, his spies having tapped into Madam President's call with President Volkov. And with the world rearming so rapidly, he knew war was close. And war would provide the ultimate distraction.
A chance to demonstrate China's prowess on the world stage, instill patriotic and nationalistic duty in the people, and gain a foothold as a global dominant power. The problem was, who was he to go to war with? At first, Li thought about finally invading Taiwan. Unfortunately, the current seasons made landings impossible. The PLA would have to wait until either October or next April for an invasion.
Li didn't have time for that, so there came options two and three. India, and Korea. India was tempting, if only because it would eliminate a potential rival on the world stage. But India had been building up its military quickly. Their navy, while not nearly as large, rivaled the PLA's, boasting three hundred ships, with four domestically made aircraft carriers. India's airforce and army were similarly well equipped. If that wasn't bad enough, they had contracts with the MSF. Small contingents of the mercenary army littered India, giving the country an annoying ally.
Korea wasn't all that much better. The country still had defensive pacts with the United States. And while the country was definitely weakened, Li would rather have more cards in his favor, before pulling all of NATO into a Pacific conflict. It's why he also ruled out Japan. It had both the MSF and the US on their side. There were plenty of choices of who to go to war with. The problem was it dragged the rest of the world in with them…
Then again, there was that "No-Limits" partnership China still had with Russia. And from what Li could tell, the Russians were preparing for war as well. Mentally Li began calculating the odds of everything. Russia was close with Belarus, Serbia, and Iran. China meanwhile had some relations with Pakistan. And the more Li thought about it, he began to realize the warlords in Africa would be a decent help. Assuming they could get their crap together. If not, then drowning the MSF in bodies would be enough.
"New title for the media," Li commented, now facingSòng,"CIA Sponsored Coup Attempt atZhongnanhai. Terrorists Arrested by Heroic Officers. If that doesn't work, then blame that Japanese cult, or whoever the hell you can stick the blame onto."
The infirmary was silent, as Midoriya felt Uraraka's hand strike him. And for a solid minute, it stayed that way. Midoriya had only just noticed Uraraka walking into the room before she slapped him. Now he was too shocked to speak, his good hand moving to rub his sore cheek. Looking up at Uraraka, Midoriya couldn't help but shrink back. In her eyes all he saw was rage. Tearful, fiery, rage.
"What is wrong with you!?" she yelled, again causing Midoriya to shrink back further. He barely noticed it, but he could have sworn Uraraka had an accent.
"Wha-" Midoriya tried to say only for Uraraka to cut him off.
"Don't what me! You went on some big old hero mission last night didn't you!" Uraraka accused angrily. And the moment she said the word mission, it suddenly clicked for the rest of the class. Near instantly the rest of 1A swarmed into the room, with Midoriya seeing a dozen other angry faces.
"Akatani!" Iida yelled out shocked, his arms chopping rapidly, "Do the heroes know about this!?"
"Bro you went… you were in Tokyo!" Kaminari exclaimed, earning ever more angry glares from his friends.
"You fought those cultists!?" Jiro yelled in shock, with Kirishima sliding up next to her.
"Dude, what were you thinking!?" Kirishima demanded, with Midoriya turning back toward Eri. The girl hadn't left his side but visibly shook. She slowly curled into herself, as Midoriya forced himself to sit back up. But before he could even address Eri, his classmates kept talking over him.
"Look at you! Did they hit you with a truck!?" Asui demanded worriedly before Midoriya finally shouted over them.
"Wait! Wait!" Midoriya called out, holding his hand out defensively, "What's the problem!?"
"The problem is you leaving without telling any of us!" Uraraka quickly answered, leaving Midoriya silent for a moment. The rest of the class went quiet too, as Uraraka breathed deep shoddy breaths.
"You… you could have died," Uraraka told him, a few tears slowly trickling down her face, "It… it's like the Sports Festival all over again."
She looked over the bandages covering Midoriya again, her eyes lingering on each and every wound. The sheer worry she held… it hurt Midoriya the more he looked at her.
"Hey, it's fine, everything's fine," he said, hoping to comfort her. Bringing up a large friendly smile, Midoriya shifted in his bed slightly.
"I'm… I'm alive, still here with all of you," Midoriya stated, gesturing to the rest of the class. Though his words only made Uraraka grimace, along with a few of his classmates.
"That isn't the problem Akatani," Uraraka began, while Midoriya spotted Iida begin looking over the checklist on Midoriya's bed, "You left without telling any of us. Without even saying goodbye."
Glancing over, Midoriya didn't miss Iida's eyes, nearly bulging out of his head. Yaoyorozu noticed this and leaned over Iida's shoulder to read the list. And like Iida, her face turned to one of shock. He knew his fight had been brutal, but they made it seem worse than it was… right?
"You could have died out there, and not one of us would have known," Uraraka continued, dragging Midoriya's attention back to her. At first, he was ready to argue. To tell her there hadn't been time, or that he'd never had the chance. But the words died in his mouth. He did have time, all he needed to do was send a single text. He had dozens of chances, but the drive to Tokyo took a long while.
It… it wasn't that big of a deal Midoriya tried to rationalize. But the pained look Uraraka gave him said otherwise. He'd seen that look before, on soldiers at Mother Base.
"We only learned you were in the infirmary because of All Might!" Uraraka exclaimed, before sniffling to herself. If he did die, none of them would have known. Thinking back on it, the last time Midoriya had even seen Uraraka was when he and Kaminari left with Hatsume. He didn't even say goodbye, just waved. If anything he left her with the vague assumption, the small sliver of a possibility, that he was coming right back.
Now Midoriya felt regret slowly build in him, especially as he looked over his classmates. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Jiro looked at him angrily, the red-haired teen specifically slowly crossing his arms. Yaoyorozu, Iida, Asui, and Ashido meanwhile looked at him disappointed, with Ashido very standing oddly close to Uraraka. Everyone else had a mix of the two emotions. Then his eyes fell back on Uraraka. Looking at her… it puzzled Midoriya, but she looked at him differently than everyone else.
It was hard to place what she was thinking. She was furious, she was disappointed, she was worried, she was sad. It was a mix of everything but felt… odd. As looking over at his friends, Midoriya felt regret for his actions. But when looking at Uraraka specifically, he felt like he'd died. It… it hurt. It hurt a lot. He didn't know why it did, but it hurt. Just seeing all the worry and anger she held…
"You're… you're right," Midoriya conceded, his smile falling away, "I… I should have called you guys, and… and I'm sorry."
He wouldn't tell them everything, it be idiotic to tell them about a secret mission he was assigned. But at the very least he'd give them a call or a text, saying he was heading out. At the very least, to ensure their last memory was of him saying goodbye. It left everyone quiet for a moment before Uraraka wiped her eyes with her arm.
"I'm… sorry about slapping you," Uraraka replied, with a nervous chuckle. At the same time, Ashido playfully elbowed her, a smirk on the pink girl's face.
"It's just… you matter to me- to us. And…" Uraraka explained, slowly trailing off.
"It would have been better if we knew, kero," Asui finished, with Midoriya slowly nodding in agreement.
"I… I get that now," Midoriya told them apologetically, "Next time I'll tell you, guys."
From there everyone went quiet again, with Midoriya looking over the class. Part of him knew it wouldn't be enough. This apology was nothing but words and noise. So Midoriya knew it would take time to make amends-
"Ah screw it," Kaminari commented, before walking up toward Midoriya with his arms out, "Bear hug?"
Next to him, Kirishima chuckled before doing the exact same thing.
"Can't think of anything manlier," Kirishima added, as Midoriya looked between the two of them. The sight caused Midoriya to laugh, where he slowly relented. The three hugged, and slowly the rest of the class joined them. However, for whatever reason, Uraraka seemed to purposefully get the closest. Midoriya didn't entirely question it though, as after a minute he felt his ribs begin to sting.
"Ow, ow!" Midoriya called out, and his friends quickly backed up.
"Oh, right, right sorry," Kirishima said apologetically, while Midoriya simply waved him off. With that done most of the class spread out around the infirmary, finding a seat wherever they could.
"So, Mr. Super Spy, what was your mission last night?" Jiro eventually asked, voicing the class's opinion. It was here that Midoriya remembered what he had tried to bring up before. Man… Bakugo was right, he sucked at being a big brother. Mentally reminding himself to do better, Midoriya turned toward the girl in question. She looked better now that the conflict had died down, but looked around the room tense.
"Well…" Midoriya began, his good hand gesturing toward the girl, "First off, this is Eri, my… sister… I hope."
He immediately regretted this action, as a dozen eyes fell on Eri. The girl again shrunk back, as 1A now realized, or remembered in Uraraka's case, the girl in the room, except for Bakugo. He didn't seem to care about everything going on and just focused on a book he'd gotten. Midoriya did hear Ashido gasp then, the teen now standing in front of Eri with a wide smile.
"Oh hello," she stated giddily, as Yaoyorozu, Iida, and Hagakure, came up behind her, "How long have you been here?"
Eri somehow shrunk further into her chair, slowly turning toward Midoriya pleadingly. Seeing her trouble, Midoriya looked around the room for a moment and spotted DD napping again, only this time the dog rested near the infirmary's window. His body rested in a small sliver of sunlight coming through. With a whistle, he woke DD up and gained the dog's attention. Snapping his fingers he pointed toward Eri, and DD walked toward the girl with his tongue out.
"It's ok, they're nice," Midoriya told Eri, as he turned back to face her. The large wolf-dog now closer to her, Eri seemed to calm down somewhat when DD began licking her hand. There Midoriya watched as she took a deep breath, working up the confidence to say something.
"H-hi," Eri eventually greeted nervously, with Hagakure giggling somewhat.
"You are adorable!" Hagakure exclaimed, the invisible girl quickly pulling out something from her pockets. At the same time, Yaoyorozu crouched down next to her, the heiress looking Eri over calmly.
"My word," Yaoyorozu commented, the teen hesitantly reaching her hand out, "Look at her hair."
With gentle care, Yaoyorozu ran her hand through Eri's hair. Every few seconds she'd run into another knot. Or she'd pull her hand out, and feel the amount of grease sticking to her palm. Noticing Yaoyorozu's actions, Iida quickly began to look over Eri's outfit. The teen instantly grimaced the moment he spotted what was more akin to rags than clothes.
"Akatani… where… How exactly did you meet Eri?" Iida inquired, as he glanced toward Midoriya. For his part Midoriya opened his mouth to answer, but ended up finding it difficult to explain… everything. Because how the hell would he? Would he say his dad was contacted by the ghost of his dead mentor, who'd given them coordinates to a base no one knew of? Where said ghost had been taking care of Eri for likely months, along with the colleagues of her dead squad?
It sounded crazy. But at the same time, Midoriya's eyes fell on Eri. He didn't know everything she'd gone through, but he had an idea. They were not experiences he enjoyed, sometimes the memory of it all kept him up at night. And he knew Eri wouldn't want to relive those memories. So Midoriya stayed quiet. Yet his silence spoke a thousand words for 1A. Through Eri's clothes, her hair, her fear of everything, and Midoriya's hesitancy to speak, everyone instantly understood the picture.
And slowly everyone, even Bakugo, began to pale at the realization.
"You poor thing," Uraraka muttered, as she stood up to join the other girls.
"Just…holy crap," Kaminari commented shocked before Bakugo loudly slammed his book shut.
"Do you know who's responsible?" Iida inquired, with Midoriya giving him a so-so gesture.
"Kinda," Midoriya replied, his good hand now rubbing his still sore cheek, "Eri hasn't said much, but there might be… this isn't the first time for her."
The proclamation sent another wave of shock through everyone, as Kirishima looked at him wide-eyed.
"Twice!?" Kirishima exclaimed, his hands cupped over his head, "She's been abused by two different people!?"
"Fuck it, I'm killing them," Bakugo announced, leaving Midoriya dumbstruck for a moment, while Iida exclaimed, "Bakugo!"
"Tell me I'm wrong four eyes!" Bakugo argued in return, the blond watching as Iida hesitantly conceded. The action did earn a snort from Jiro though, the teen passing Kaminari a lone earbud.
"Didn't know you had a heart," she commented dryly, while Kaminari accepted the earbud. Quietly the two opened up Jiro's phone and began scrolling through songs. Bakugo meanwhile scoffed at her words, before slouching into his bed.
"I'm not a monster," Bakugo muttered, before going silent. Looking over at the teen, Midoriya could see the gears still turning in his head. Even now, their conversation echoed in his mind.
"Well, this just won't do," Uraraka decided, the girl glancing toward Ashido. The pink teen nodded in agreement, as she looked at Eri's hair.
"Agreed!" Ashido exclaimed, a small excited smile forming on her face, "Come on Eri, let's get you out of those rags and into something nicer!"
Hesitantly the girl looked back at Midoriya, as Ashido, Uraraka, Yaoyorozu, and Hagakure began standing and walking toward the door. With a smile, Midoriya motioned for Eri to follow them, while DD licked her hand again.
"You can trust them," Midoriya told her, his tone calm and comforting, "I'll be right here when you're done."
For a second Eri looked between him and the girls. Back and forth her head turned. Ultimately she stood up from her seat slowly, still looking between the two groups.
"...Ok," Eri eventually replied, as she carefully walked toward the door. All the while the girls gave her a comforting smile. Not wanting to be left out, DD followed closely behind Eri, as the girls led her outside.
"We're going to make you look so cute!" was the last thing Midoriya heard, as Hagakure closed the door behind them.
Night Owl didn't know what to do. Standing in a lone warehouse owned by the Ninth Circle, Night Owl scoured over a blank map in front of him. For hours the mad scientist had tried finding some solution to his problem. The MSF had been through in their raids and had left him with practically nothing. A small number of weapons had been moved from the museums, so Night Owl wasn't entirely disarmed. But… It was barely enough equipment to arm a battalion.
Now he scrambled to find any new solution. Yet that was proving all but impossible. The south and southwest of Japan were filled with MSF-aligned nations, meaning if he tried to buy or steal anything in the Philippines or Indonesia, the MSF would know. In all likelihood, they wouldn't sell to him to begin with. In the West were more MSF-aligned nations, and the likes of China.
However, the HPSC's relations with China were quickly becoming strained. So that was another nation that wouldn't sell to him. The same could be said for Russia, which had essentially cut all ties with the HPSC. Africa's warlords were a possibility, but with their distance away from Japan, shipping would take far longer than Night Owl liked.
Then there was Korea. The country had a lot of arms available through both the current armed forces, and the billions of dollars worth of North Korean equipment they'd put into storage. Night Owl only hoped the Korean Government hadn't locked up their armories like the rest of the world. Even then, assuming they hadn't, it would take years to build up the connections necessary to sneak arms out of the country.
There truly were no short-term solutions, and it filled Night Owl with nothing but dread. And as he thought this, the manifestation of his dread quietly walked through the warehouse's door, his legion of lieutenants following behind him. Hearing the sound of metal scraping over concrete, Night Owl gave Reaper a quick glance over his shoulder. With a deep breath, Night Owl brought back his usual smile, attempting to remain confident.
"Ah, Reaper, perfect timing," Night Owl greeted, turning fully around as Reaper approached him. The man as always stayed silent, and stopped to look over Night Owl's map.
"So, as of right now, we're in a bit of a pickle," Night Owl explained, watching as Reaper's eyes trailed over the map's every marker. Each one detailing a possible source of new arms, along with Night Owl's best guess in how long assembling them would take.
"As of right now, I believe we have to delay the operation. My best estimates suggest a year," Night Owl explained, before feeling Reaper's eyes slowly turn toward him. The man still said nothing, but now Night Owl could feel Reaper's anger. The cult leader's eyes practically burned into Night Owl's skin. Defensively Night Owl held up his hands.
"Look, I don't like it either, but the MSF has backed me into a corner," Night Owl reasoned, his confidence managing to hold up his visage, "All we need to do, is go quiet for a year or two-"
In a split second, Reaper grabbed Night Owl by the throat. Hoisting him up in the air, Night Owl choked as the man glared up at him. Next to him many of Reaper's lieutenants began to smirk or even cheer.
"Wait! W-wait!" Night Owl protested, struggling against Reaper's grip, "We had a deal!"
Quietly, Reaper looked at Night Owl, just watching the scientist struggle. After a while, he snapped his fingers, and a lieutenant stepped toward him. The lieutenant swiftly held a phone out. Holstering the sickle he'd been holding, Reaper accepted the phone. With his hand, he began scrolling through apps, before stopping on one. For a moment all Reaper did was type, leaving Night Owl terrified.
A million possibilities of what the cult leader was up to ran through his mind. All were proven wrong, as the cold robotic tone of a text to speech voice spoke up.
"A deal you continually fail to uphold," the voice argued. It sounded like a damn Alexa or Siri. On any other day, Night Owl would have found it hilarious, to hear Reaper use the voice to speak. Now… Now he felt terrified. The voice did nothing to show Reaper's true thoughts. It was cold and machine-like, yet its tone sounded sickly sweet. Trying to appear friendly and safe for a better user experience. It did the exact opposite in Night Owl's mind.
"We've upheld our end, against my better judgment. Yet you have not," Reaper typed into the phone, the robotic voice replaying his words. All the while Night Owl felt Reaper's fury burn like a star. His hand tightened over Night Owl's throat, and the scientist gasped for air.
"For years you told us to wait, promising us our day of reckoning would arrive," Reaper told him, his grip loosening for just a moment. All so he could slam Night Owl onto the table next to them. Cringing in pain, Night Owl began to feel one of the map's small markers dig into his back.
"Now, when we've finally been allowed to act, you again tell us that we must wait," Reaper continued, with Night Owl feeling the anger in every word. He wasn't entirely long, Night Owl realized. He'd been goading them on for years. Giving them all their wonderful toys and funding. Hiding away their activities from the world. All with the promise that their "mercy" would be given to the world.
"No more," Reaper announced, his grip tightening against Night Owl's throat again, "Everything will go according to plan."
The words made Night Owl go pale. They… they couldn't! They weren't ready! The Ninth Circle may still have its weapons, but Night Owl had none of his! If they were to attack without him then everything, everything he'd built would be lost! All that time and progress, now gone! This… this was betrayal, Night Owl realized.
"Y-you don't understand! I-I just need a little more time-" Night Owl tried to protest through ragged breaths. Only for Reaper to lift him up, and slam him back onto the table.
"This is not up for discussion. We will not wait any longer. So, consider this a change to our deal," Reaper retorted, before turning and tossing Night Owl away. The scientist tumbled across the floor for a second, slowly coming to a stop. Forcing himself to stand up, he found Reaper and his men beginning to leave the room.
"Come August you and your forces will strike with us, or you will die," Reaper ordered, walking out the door seconds later. Behind him his lieutenants slammed the door shut, leaving Night Owl in silence. This… none of this was supposed to be happening. He knew the Ninth Circle would betray him, he always knew. But… now!? Now!? Of all times!? It wasn't supposed to be happening now! It was too early!
Quickly Night Owl began to panic, the man trying to calculate everything. Anxiously he looked over his phone's calendar, counting up the days. If he wanted everything to go according to plan, he would need another year of work. He had almost three months. Three months, to find millions of rounds of ammo. Three months to transport all of it to Japan. Three months keep it under the noses of the MSF and the HPSC.
Going to Korea seemed all the more likely as Night Owl thought about it. But it just wouldn't matter. There wasn't enough time to build up his contacts or reestablish relations with old ones. There wasn't enough time for anything. He… he was screwed. Everything he'd been working toward was done for. The idea of starting again came to mind, abandoning the plan and coming back in a few years.
But… ugh! No! He wasn't going to give up! Everything would go his way! He just needed to tweak some things. Everything… everything would. Desperation clawed at Night Owl's mind, the mad scientist trying to think up a plan. Only one came to mind. And it was idiotic. But Night Owl's legs moved on instinct. Through the warehouse he walked, winding through the building's long halls.
Eventually he came to a stop in a singularly large room. Situated inside, was the majority of his scientific equipment. Looking over the messy lab, his eyes fell on the large rings situated by the back of the room. With a deep breath, Night Owl walked toward a console nearby. Turning it on he ran through different frequencies. He didn't know which one to choose. Instead his mind picked a random one.
In seconds the rings in the room came to life. Energy swirled inside them before reality seemed to tear open near them. The portals shifted to a dark blue hue, and Night Owl hesitantly walked toward them. This was the only option, Night Owl reasoned. He'd never stepped into another dimension before. He knew this one wasn't a hell dimension, but anxiety told him otherwise. With a deep breath, Night Owl ran through everything in his mind.
He'd step through, establish contacts, and grab whatever guns he could. The multiverse was at his fingertips, and whatever goodies they held would be his. With that optimistic thought, Night Owl cautiously stepped forward and walked into the portal.