The lab's fluorescent lights hummed overhead, their cold glow reflecting off the decrypted files projected on the wall. Hana and Grey stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes locked on the flickering text:
"Pattern breach detected. Origin: Unknown. Subject Identified: Hana. Additional anomaly detected: Grey."
Their hearts pounded; this was no longer theory. The system had marked them.
Sato's voice trembled.
"We did not initiate this flag."
Hana inhaled, trying to steady herself.
"They found us." Her voice was quiet but resolute.
Grey's gaze flickered to the journal Sato held, pages yellowed, edges frayed, secrets waiting to be unearthed. "What's in it?"
Sato hesitated before answering, "It's a record of past experiments, but there are sections that have been redacted. I think it holds the key to our current situation."
Grey's curiosity piqued as he reached for the journal, his fingers trembling with anticipation.
Sato tapped a line. "Coordinates… and a name: Eri."
Grey frowned. "Eri's been hiding. But where?"
Hana stepped closer to the projection. "She's being moved. And fast." She glanced at the decrypted data, piecing the fragments together.
"Eri is being chased. Whoever hunts her might be onto us too."
A low hum pulsed through the lab. An alarm? No. Something else. The lights dimmed for a fraction of a second, and the screens glitched. For a heartbeat, the reflection of Hana in the glass shimmered with eyes not her own.
Grey's breath caught. "Did you see that?"
Hana nodded, voice tight. "The glitch… it's not just digital."
Sato's fingers flew across the keyboard.
"Accessing deeper logs, someone or something tampered with the system remotely."
"Someone with access," Grey muttered. "This goes deeper than we thought."
In the corridor, a distant step echoed. Soft. Deliberate. Neither of them moved, the tension snapping tight like a wire.
Hana's pulse drummed in her ears. "We need to split. I'll go see what it is. You trace the breach." I'll head to the security room; you check the server room," Sato whispered urgently.
Grey nodded, voice firm. "We'll meet back here in ten minutes."
They parted. Hana slipped into the darkened corridors, and Grey went back to the console. The journal remained open to a page that read, "They will come when the mirror breaks."
Hana's heart raced as she navigated the shadows, every creak of the floor making her jump. Hana's reflection in the tinted glass flickered again; only this time, it didn't match her movement. Her breath caught, and she reached out, but the reflection froze, eyes glinting with something not quite human.
Her phone buzzed. A message:
"They know. Run."
Her legs tensed. She turned and froze.
Standing in the shadows at the far end of the corridor was a figure. One she recognized.
Eri.
But her eyes… they were empty.
Hana's scream caught in her throat.
Darkness engulfed Hana's scream as it echoed down the hallway. Eri stood motionless under the pale emergency lights, her silhouette eerily still, her eyes empty voids reflecting nothing.
Hana's legs trembled.
"Eri?"
she whispered, voice tight. But no response came, only a slow, deliberate step forward. Eri's head tilted, as if listening to a distant sound only she could hear.
Back in the lab, Grey's fingers flew across the console. Logs scrolled past unauthorized access, a masked IP, and a trace of a command executed just seconds ago. The breach wasn't random. Someone was deliberately hunting them, and now, their cover was blown.
He froze. The lights flickered again. A soft whisper hissed through the speakers, too low to catch the words, but unmistakably human. Cold dread pooled in his chest. He recognized the voice. The whisper:
"Found you."
Hana stumbled backward, heart pounding. Eri's eyes snapped toward her, emotionless but unmistakably focused.
"You shouldn't have come," she said, voice hollow, voice not quite Eri's.
In the lab, Grey backed away from the console, pressing a hand to the wall. His breath hitched.
"They're inside," he thought, though he didn't dare say it aloud.
The corridor's silence fractured. Footsteps approached slow and measured. Hana's blood ran cold. She glanced back at the lab entrance, but it was too far. She was trapped between the void in Eri's gaze and the approaching steps.
Eri raised a hand. It trembled not with fear, but with something else. Recognition. But from whom? And why?
Hana stepped back, her heart pounding in her chest. The footsteps grew louder, closer. Eri's hand dropped to her side, her eyes locking onto Hana's with a mix of familiarity and uncertainty. Was this really Eri, or something else entirely? And with a whispering and trembling voice:
"Eri…? Is that you?"
Eri's voice sounds hollow and almost robotic as her head slowly tilts:
"You shouldn't have come."
Hana's heart was pounding, taking a cautious step forward:
"What do you mean? We've been looking for you. We're here to help."
A small, uncomfortable smile curls Eri's lips:
"Help? You can't help me. You can't even help yourself."
Hana forced calm by swallowing hard:
"Listen to me. Whatever they did to you, we can fix it. Just come with me—"
Eri interrupted, her voice harsh and abnormally echoing: "You don't understand, Hana. This is beyond fixing. It's too late for me now." Her eyes glinted with an unsettling mix of fear and determination.
"They're watching. Through me. Through you. Every word you speak… every thought you hide."
Hana's eyes darted to the corridor's shadows, feeling a chill run down her spine. She knew they were running out of time to convince Eri to come with them.
"Who's watching? Is it all for one? The League?"
Eri chuckles softly, a sound that makes Hana shiver.
"They're always watching, Hana. It's not just the League. They're everywhere," Eri whispered, her eyes darting around the dimly lit corridor. Hana's heart raced as she realized the gravity of their situation and the danger they were truly facing.
"They are not at the league level, no. Bigger than them. Older than them. The ones who write the story."
Hana gasped, her voice breaking.
"What story? What are you talking about?"
Eri takes a step closer, something otherworldly glinting in her eyes.
"You're not supposed to exist, Hana. Neither is he."
Hana's breath caught.
"…Grey?"
With a slow nod that sounds like a blade against glass, Eri whispers.
"They'll erase you when the mirror breaks."
Hana's mind reeled with confusion and fear as she tried to comprehend Eri's cryptic words.
"Eri, please—come with me. We can fight this. Together."
Eri shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. "I can't. This is beyond us now." Hana felt a sense of desperation creeping in as she realized the gravity of the situation.
Then, Eri's smile fades, her voice dropping to a chilling monotone:
"You can't fight the author."
The lights flicker violently. For a split second, Hana sees her own reflection in the glass behind Eri smiling, delayed, wrong. Eri then starts to fade away like smoke into the darkness, which will only leave nothing but the sound of her final words.
At that very moment, Grey's voice crackled through the comms. "Hana…?"
She froze. The sound was a lifeline and a danger. She gambled it. "Grey," she whispered.
"Don't move," came his reply. "I'm coming."
Eri's lips curved into a faint, twisted smile. "You can't save her."
Hana's heart twisted. "Why are you like this?"
Eri's expression flickered with pain, confusion, and then void. She took another step.
"Hana!"
Grey came out of the lab, eyes wild. He raised his weapon, wobbly but resolute.
Eri's head snapped toward him, eyes flaring with recognition, or was it hunger? "Grey…"
Hana lunged forward, arms spread wide. But Eri vanished, dissolving into shadows like smoke.
The corridor echoed with emptiness.
Grey dropped to his knees, breathing raggedly. "Where did she go?"
Hana shook, voice breaking. "She… she wasn't Eri."
Grey swallowed, closing his eyes. "This is bigger than we thought."
A distant alarm began to wail. Red lights flooded the corridor. Somewhere, doors slammed shut.
They were not alone.
[Location: U.A. High, Late Evening. The corridors are dim, security systems humming softly. Most students are in their dorms. A shadow moves silently across the walls.
Stain crouches on a rooftop overlooking the main building, his blade gleaming faintly under the moonlight. His voice is a low growl, almost a prayer to his twisted creed:
Stain (inner monologue):
"Heroes who betray their ideals deserve no mercy. And you, Yuga Aoyama… you will stain this world long before anyone sees it."
He slips through a maintenance hatch, moving like a phantom. His boots make no sound against the polished floor. Every step is calculated, every breath controlled. His target: Class 1-A dormitory.
[Inside the dorm hallway]
Yuga Aoyama hums softly to himself, adjusting his glittering belt in front of a mirror. His usual flamboyant smile masks the unease in his eyes. He whispers:
"I must keep shining… even if it hurts."
The lights flicker. A shadow stretches across the wall behind him. He freezes, turning slowly.
Stain (emerging from the darkness, voice like a blade):
"Your shine blinds you from the truth."
Aoyama stumbles back, panic flooding his face. Stain's presence sends a chill down Aoyama's spine as he realizes the danger he is in. The room fills with tension as Stain takes a step closer, his intent clear.
"W-Who… Who are you?!"
Stain stepped forward, blade glinting.
"The one who cleanses false heroes. And you… are filth."
Aoyama's breath catches. His navel laser flickers to life instinctively, a beam slicing through the air. Stain dodges effortlessly, closing the distance in a blur.
"Pathetic. Even your Quirk reeks of vanity."
Aoyama's heart races as he struggles to come up with a plan, his mind racing with fear and uncertainty. Stain's cold, calculating gaze pierces through him, making him feel small and insignificant in comparison.
Aoyama fires again, desperate, but Stain's blade knocks the beam aside, sparks scattering across the floor. He pins Aoyama against the wall, dagger poised at his throat.
Stain speaks with a cold, deliberate voice.
"You will betray them all. I see it in your eyes. Better to end it now."
Aoyama trembles, tears streaking his glittered cheeks.
"I… I never wanted this…!"
Before Stain can strike, a voice cuts through the tension, firm, raw, and familiar:
With no announcement, Deku appears:
"Stop!"
The camera swings to reveal Izuku Midoriya sprinting down the corridor, One For All crackling around his limbs like green lightning. His eyes blaze with determination.
"If you want to hurt him… you'll have to go through me!"
Stain turns slowly, his expression unreadable, blade dripping with menace. The air thickens with killing intent as two ideologies collide: justice twisted versus justice pure.
Green lightning keeps crackling around Izuku's limbs as he skids to a halt, fists clenched, eyes burning with determination. For a heartbeat, hope surges until the impossible happens.
Aoyama jerks violently, his body stiffening like a puppet on invisible strings. His eyes glaze over, and before Deku can move—
SHHHK!
Stain's blade moves forward almost unconsciously under the control of something invisible. Aoyama collapses, lifeless, his glitter dimming into nothing.
Silence crashes down like a hammer. Deku freezes, horror ripping through him. His voice cracks:
"No… NO!"
Stain stumbles back, shock flickering across his scarred face. His grip trembles on the blade as he whispers, almost to himself.
That… wasn't me.
He looks at Deku, eyes hardening with grim clarity. His voice drops to a cold, bitter truth:
"See for yourself, kid. This life… it doesn't always go the way you want."
The corridor erupts in chaos, sirens wail, doors slam open, and voices shout as Class 1-A bursts from their rooms. Bakugo's roar shakes the walls, Todoroki's ice crawls across the floor, and Iida's engines scream like war drums.
Stain spins, blade flashing, muscles coiled. His creed burns in his chest, but something darker gnaws at the edges of his mind: the whisper of control, the unseen hand that forced his strike.
If they can twist my will… then this world is filthier than I thought.
He leaps into motion, cutting through the corridor like a phantom. Deku lunges after him, fury and grief blazing in his eyes.
"STAIN!"
The fight begins not for ideology, but for survival. Stain against U.A., blades against quirks, chaos against order. And above it all, the question hangs like a blade over every heart:
Who pulled the strings?