Mirko woke up choking on dust.
His body jerked before his mind caught up, heart pounding hard enough to hurt. For half a second, he forgot where he was—forgot the walls, the guards, the fences.
Then the cold bit through his jacket.
Right.
The base.
He'd slept—or something close to it—curled up behind a stack of empty supply crates, knees tucked to his chest like a stray trying to disappear. A torn tarp had been his blanket. The concrete had been his bed.
Not a good sleep.
His shoulder ached where the wound still hadn't fully forgiven him. His neck was stiff. His mouth tasted like metal and fear.
Mirko rubbed his face slowly, careful not to make noise.
Around him, the base was waking up.
Boots.
Murmured voices.
A generator coughing itself alive.
He stayed still, counting breaths, until he was sure no one was looking his way.
Okay… don't be stupid.
He pulled his hood up, shadowing his face, and stood when a small group of teens passed nearby carrying tools. They looked half-asleep, shoulders slumped, eyes dull.
Perfect.
Mirko slipped in behind them, matching their pace, lowering his head.
Blend in.
No one questioned him. No one looked twice. In a place full of tired kids, one more didn't matter.
As they walked, Mirko stole glances around.
Barbed wire overhead.
Guard towers blinking in the morning haze.
Concrete buildings marked with faded numbers.
Somewhere in here… Aiko.
Anna.
Tenya.
Izuku.
His chest tightened at the thought.
Don't rush.
Rushing gets you caught.
A guard barked an order up ahead, and everyone flinched—including Mirko. He copied the way the others kept their eyes down, hands visible, movements small.
His stomach growled.
He ignored it.
Step by step, he let himself be carried with the flow of people, pretending he belonged there—pretending this place hadn't taken his friends, hadn't turned them into prisoners.
Last night replayed in his head in broken flashes: cutting the wire, crawling under light, the moment he almost ran straight into a patrol.
Stupid.
So stupid.
And yet—he was here.
Alive. Inside. Closer than ever.
Mirko adjusted his hood again and followed the crowd deeper into the base, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion.
He hadn't slept well.
But he was awake now.
And he wasn't leaving without them.
Mirko moved cautiously, slipping through the corridors, staying in the shadows. The base felt huge, overwhelming, and despite his careful steps, he knew he couldn't let his guard down for long.
"Okay, let me wait a little bit," Mirko muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the hall. He needed a plan—just a bit more time. If he was going to get them out, he'd have to get the timing just right.
His eyes locked onto the entrance to the work site, but he couldn't make his move just yet.
He waited, his mind racing, when suddenly a voice broke the silence.
"Hey, I've never seen you around, kid. New around here?"
Mirko stiffened, then slowly turned to face the woman. She was middle-aged, with a tired look in her eyes but an air of unbothered indifference that seemed typical for the place. She was dressed in one of the standard work uniforms, her sleeves rolled up, hair tied back in a loose ponytail.
Mirko instinctively pulled his hood lower, trying to hide his face a little more.
"Uh, yeah, I'm… new," Mirko replied cautiously, trying to act natural. "I'm an indoor person," he added quickly, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself.
The woman raised an eyebrow, inspecting him for a moment, then let out a low chuckle.
"Indoor person, huh? That's a first. You're hiding from something, or just don't like the work?" She crossed her arms, looking at him with mild curiosity.
Mirko shifted his weight uneasily, the small talk feeling more and more dangerous as he tried to figure out the right answer.
"Uh, not hiding… just, you know, taking it easy for now. It's a big base." He shifted his gaze toward the ground, trying to seem as uninterested as possible. "Kinda get lost in here."
The woman nodded as if she bought it. "Yeah, easy to get lost around here. They don't really tell you where everything is until you've been here for a while." She gave him a once-over, then sighed. "Well, whatever. Just stay out of trouble. I don't wanna be the one to tell the guards I saw you slacking."
"Yeah, no worries." Mirko nodded, relieved she was walking away. He couldn't afford to be caught in any more conversations.
He waited until she was out of sight before creeping toward the work site.
---
As Mirko moved toward the work site, he noticed a commotion. The sound of shouting broke the stillness, making his stomach twist in knots. He crouched low behind some crates, peeking through a small crack to see what was going on.
"Move your asses!" one of the guards shouted, pushing Aiko roughly in the back. She stumbled slightly but quickly regained her footing, her face twisted in a snarl.
Aiko shook off the guard's hand like it was nothing. "Don't touch me like that," she said coolly, her voice laced with irritation.
"Shut up and keep moving," the guard barked at her, but Aiko didn't flinch.
"Yeah, keep talking back, and I'll give you something to really complain about," the guard threatened, but Aiko merely rolled her eyes and continued walking, head held high, despite the bruises starting to show on her arms and face.
Izuku, who was trailing behind, couldn't keep quiet. "You're all such assholes. We're not even doing anything wrong! All we did was try to live!" he snapped, his voice strained with frustration.
The guard shoved Izuku forward with a grunt. "And that's what got you all here. Now, move."
"Yeah, well, guess what? You're gonna lose." Izuku muttered, wiping blood from his lip, his eyes blazing with defiance.
The guards didn't respond. They just continued marching them forward like cattle, ignoring their complaints, pushing them toward the harsh reality of the work site.
Mirko's fists clenched behind the crates. He wanted to do something, to rush in and break them free, but he knew he had to be patient. He couldn't make any mistakes—not yet.
His heart pounded as he watched them disappear further into the base, the guards staying close behind.
But he wasn't going to lose them. Not now.