Grey collapsed onto the rain-drenched curb, the weight of grief and fury crushing him. Sirens wailed in the distance, mingling with the roar of emergency vehicles and the hiss of rain. The image of Inferno Wings, poised and unblinking amid the wreckage, haunted his mind.
His eyes closing, letting the rain wash over him. The world had betrayed him. Heroes had failed him. And now, he felt himself slipping away, falling into darkness.
Then, through the blur of pain and rain, he saw a figure approaching. Someone whose form flickered in and out of focus. A hand reached toward him. The world went black before he could remember anything else.
Morning After
When he opened his eyes again, the world was dim and unfamiliar. His vision blurred, but he could make out a figure standing over him, someone calm, steady, and alert.
"You're awake," the figure said softly. The voice was gentle, yet carried authority. Grey tried to speak, but his throat was dry, his lungs heavy.
He tried to sit up, but a firm hand gently pushed him back down. "Rest," the figure said, offering him a sip of water. Grey's mind was still foggy, but he felt a sense of safety in the presence of this stranger.
He tried to move, but his body refused.
The figure knelt beside him, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead.
"You're safe," they murmured. "You're not in the street anymore."
Grey's vision cleared further. He was lying on a cot in a sparse room. The walls were plain, the lighting muted. It felt clinical but not hostile.
"Where am I?" he managed to whisper.
The figure smiled softly. "You're in a safe place now," they replied. "Rest and recover; you're going to be okay."
The figure paused before continue. "You passed out after the explosion. We found you unconscious and brought you here."
Grey's mind raced. Who was this person? And where had he been taken?
Grey sat up slowly, wincing as pain pulsed through his body.
"Don't worry, you're safe here," she reassured him. Grey closed his eyes, trying to piece together what had happened before he blacked out.
"You're in a safe house," she explained. "We couldn't bring you back to your apartment; it was too dangerous. You were in bad shape when we found you."
Grey took a sip, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. He looked around, noting the bare walls and the door secured with a simple lock. The safe house felt secure but mysterious.
"Who are you?" he asked, voice hoarse.
She gave a small, sympathetic smile. "Someone who saw your email. Someone who believes you're not the enemy. And who needs your help."
She offered a small, sympathetic smile and extended her hand.
"I'm Hana Fujikawa. I work with a group that monitors unusual activity of people like you. I saw your email. I know you're not the enemy. I'm here to help."
Grey's pulse quickened. In a world where heroes had betrayed him and villains lurked in shadows, someone had reached out. Someone believed in him.
He swallowed, steadying himself. "Why me?"
Hana's eyes softened. "Because we need someone with your unique abilities and perspective to help us uncover the truth and protect innocent lives," she explained gently. Grey felt a flicker of hope ignite within him, a sense of purpose he hadn't felt in a long time.
Grey closed his eyes, drawing strength from her words. After a moment, he managed to ask, his voice hoarse, "How many days has it been… since I fainted?"
Hana's expression turned sympathetic. "It's been three days," she replied softly. Grey's heart sank at the realization, but he knew he had to focus on the task ahead.
Grey swallowed hard, processing the timeline. Every hour since the festival had seemed like an eternity, but now, knowing how much time had actually passed grounded him.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice steadier. "For everything."
Hana gave him a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with understanding.
"You're welcome," she said gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Rest now. We'll talk more soon, and we'll figure out your next move together." With that, she turned and quietly exited the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
The room fell silent, enveloping him in a sense of calm. Grey closed his eyes and exhaled. The silence settled around him, broken only by the distant hum of the city outside. He murmured to himself, voice low and thoughtful:
"So… if I'm understanding this correctly, right now the timeline is moving into what they call the 'Vs. Hero Killer' arc, the one that follows the Sports Festival. I think it spans chapters 45 through 59 in the manga and episodes 26 to 33 in the anime. It's when the students pick their hero names and start their one-week internships. And the big event here is the showdown with the Hero Killer, Stain. This arc is a turning point for many characters, especially for Deku and Todoroki as they face significant challenges and growth. The clash with Stain forces them to confront their own beliefs and motivations as aspiring heroes."
This arc also delves deeper into the complexities of hero society and the moral dilemmas that come with being a hero. It sets the stage for some major character development and shifts in the dynamics of the story.
He opened his eyes and stared at the blank wall, the weight of that realization settling in. The world he'd been thrust into was moving forward whether he was ready or not. And now, he had to decide whether to follow it… or change it.
Grey sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the world he found himself in settling on his shoulders. Then, slowly, he rose from the cot, muscles aching but determination burning in his chest.
Moments later, the door opened. Hana entered, offering a gentle yet confident smile.
"It's time," she said quietly. "Come with me."
Grey nodded, steeling himself for what was to come, and followed Hana out of the room. As they walked down the dimly lit corridor, he knew that whatever decision he made would shape the course of his future forever.
He followed her down a narrow hallway to a small, well-lit meeting room. Standing in front the growd were several individuals, some in plain clothes, others bearing subtle signs of Quirk activity: a faint glow at their fingertips, a flicker of energy in their eyes. They watched him with expressions ranging from cautious interest to quiet resolve.
Hana stood at the head of the group and motioned toward a whiteboard behind her, already filled with notes, diagrams, and images.
"This is the group you emailed," she began, voice steady and clear. "We monitor unusual activity threats, anomalies, and patterns that slip through the cracks. We knew you're not an enemy. So now, we want you to know who we are."
She tapped the board. "This was created thanks to you." Her eyes met his. "Thanks to your mail, we formed this cell. We track villain movements, map hero vulnerabilities, and prepare for threats that mainstream agencies either overlook or underestimate."
Grey's gaze shifted to the diagrams: maps of Musutafu, highlighted zones near U.A. High, notes about the Hero Killer's ideology, and even names he recognized from his memory-based recap.
Clearing his throat, he asked, "So… You're an independent group, operating off the radar. Not heroes, but… something like guardians?"
Hana nodded. "Exactly. We want to fill gaps left by both hero society and villain networks. We rely on intelligence, stealth, and cooperation. We want to make a difference in this world, without the need for recognition or fame."
A woman with a subtle Quirk glow in her palms spoke up.
"We found you because of your warning. It gave us a chance to prevent another strike. Because of your action, many villains have been stopped. We've seen that even if we're not official heroes, we can act ourselves in this fight against villains... and we're really sorry for what happened to you, and—"
Before she could finish, Grey fixed her with a glare so intense it stopped the room cold. Silence fell instantly, everyone frozen mid-sentence.
Grey's voice was low, cold, and clipped: "Let's keep this simple. What do you want?"
The tension lingered for a moment before the girl spoke up, her voice shaking slightly, then
Hana took a steadying breath. "We ask for your help to stop them."
Grey's expression twisted into a bitter laugh, hollow and sharp. "?"
"Stop them, you say? Not kill them, but stop them? Let me laugh. And it's for that stupid reason you seek my help." Then he took a small breath and with a cold tone said, "If your resolve ends there… don't come to me anymore. What I want now is not to play a hero; what I want is to make them pay in the most painful way possible."
The room fell into a heavy silence after Grey's harsh words. The air felt thick, every breath charged with tension as the group processed what he'd just said. Grey's eyes glinted with a dangerous light as he stared down the group, daring them to challenge his resolve. It was clear that his thirst for revenge was unyielding, and they would have to decide whether they were willing to follow him down that dark path.
Hana broke the stillness, her voice steady but firm: "We understand your anger, Grey, but we must consider the consequences of seeking such brutal retribution. Is there not a way to achieve justice without sacrificing our humanity in the process? Our goal is to stop villains without becoming monsters ourselves. That's the line we refuse to cross."
Grey's face remained unreadable, his eyes downcast as he mumbled, "I know, but sometimes it feels like we're fighting a losing game."
Hana reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Grey's shoulder, her touch gentle yet firm. "We may face setbacks, but as long as we stay true to our principles, we can still make a difference," she said softly.
A support operative, the woman with the glowing palms, spoke up: "Remember, it's not just about winning battles but about staying true to who we are and what we stand for. That's what truly defines us as heroes, no matter how difficult the circumstances may be."
Grey stood motionless, jaw tight, eyes cold. Finally, he spoke, voice low and measured:
"And what if that doesn't work? What if they hurt more people before you stop them? What then?"
Another member, a quietly intense man leaning back in his chair, exhaled. "Then we adapt. We escalate our tactics but within our principles."
Grey sneered. "Principles?" He let out a sarcastic smile.
"Nice word. But while you're writing press releases, people are dying. I survived because I acted. I want offense, not just defense. What we need to do now is no longer to consider them like humans; they need to die for what they did, and there they'll understand, for our friends and family that died by their hand just because they want it."
He pauses. "So let me ask you all, what I want is a world where these people would be afraid to live as a villain. You said that you need my help because I act, so let me act, and let me show you a world without villains. We will eliminate them all and conclude this futile conflict that these purported heroes are compelled to undertake. Who wants to follow me on this path?"
The hush that had settled over the room shattered. Faces stiffened. Some eyes widened in shock. Others glistened with tears, not from sorrow, but from the fierce, raw intensity in Grey's words.
A few members, their voices trembling, whispered, "Yes… kill them all…" Their tears fell freely, grief and rage mingling in their voices. One young operative, tears streaming down her cheeks, clenched her fists and cried, "They deserve to pay… every last one of them!"
Others stood more quietly, tears in their eyes but voices steady. A man with a faint energy aura in his palms whispered, "We… we follow you." His tone was resolute, but his eyes betrayed the pain behind his agreement.
Hana's face was a storm of conflicting emotions: horror, compassion, and fear. She took a trembling breath, and then, with surprising steadiness, she addressed the group.
"Is this what we've become?" she asked, voice breaking. "Are we so consumed by vengeance that we've forgotten who we are? We promised to stop villains… not become them."
Some in the crowd recoiled. A few lowered their heads, ashamed. One woman, tears wet on her cheeks, shook as she whispered, "I… I didn't mean to—"
Grey's gaze swept across the room, hard and unyielding.
"You want to stop them? Fine. But if mercy means more people die… then mercy is the luxury of the weak."
He took a step forward, voice low and dangerous.
"We'll strike first. We'll make them fear us. We won't wait for them to kill again."
At his words, some nodded fiercely, eyes alight with grim determination. Others flinched, glancing at Hana, searching for a moral anchor.
Hana stepped forward, voice trembling but clear. "I won't stand by if we cross that line. I came here to protect people, not to become an executioner. If this is the path you choose, I can't go with you."
A ripple went through the group. A few followed Hana's lead, stepping back, shaking their heads. Tears rolled down their faces as they turned away, unable to reconcile vengeance with their values.
But many remained, eyes blazing with grief, fists clenched. The woman with glowing palms spoke through sobs, "We've lost too much. We can't lose any more." Another operative, with a voice of conviction, said, "If this is what it takes to protect the innocent… then I'm with you."
Grey watched the shifting allegiances with a cold, triumphant light in his eyes.
"Then let's begin," he said softly, almost a whisper but enough. Enough to signal a turning point.
In the silent aftermath, the room was divided; some gathered around Grey, united in a brutal resolve; others drifted toward the door, torn between loyalty and conscience. Hana lingered at the threshold, eyes locked on Grey, sorrow and fear warring in her gaze.
Grey turned and met her silent stare, expression unreadable. In that moment, the lines were drawn. And the world they would shape one of vengeance, fear, and ruthless justice had begun to take form.