46

Madame President's steely gaze bore into the screen in front of her with an intensity unseen since All Might's first facedown with All For One. The HPSC had been compromised, and the origin of the intrusion was the workstation of Yokumiru Mera, who had conveniently not come into work today. To be quite honest, she wasn't even surprised that there was a leak; it was inevitable that one would happen sooner or later with the rising activity of a particularly pesky hacker attempting to breach their network for months.

What surprised her was the fact that it appeared to be Mera of all people that the breach originated from. Espionage was far too troublesome of an endeavor for someone as perpetually exhausted as him to even think about undertaking (which was partially why she kept his workload so heavy). Still, it wasn't wise to put anything past anyone on the basis of character alone. Everyone had a price, after all. She knew that better than anyone.

It was that line of thinking that landed her in her current position glaring a hole into her computer. The message she received from X-Less about Mera's apartment being completely barren went ignored. The report she received from Hawks sat unopened in her inbox. No, what had her complete and total attention were the coordinates and location highlighted on the map in front of her. Every rank-and-file employee of the Commission had a tracker implanted under their skin without their knowledge exactly for situations like this. Where was Mera's tracker indicating his current location to be?

UA High School.

"Nezu…" a cold, nearly ferocious growl seeped from her throat.

So, the rat had a fucking mole right under her nose. She didn't know how long this had been the case, and she frankly didn't care. Mera's paltry security clearance did nothing to put her mind at ease, as the fact that Nezu was in their network at all was a serious problem. He had the money and likely the know-how to slither past who knew how many of their defenses once he was in, so there was no telling how much information he made off with.

This was no longer a matter of proxy wars. There were no pro heroes, hero students, or even the general public to pit against each other in one fashion or another. This blatant infiltration and act of cyberterrorism was nothing short of open war.

Well, if the floodgates for open war were officially released, then far be it from her to not oblige. Nezu would die, and UA would fall. To do that, however, she would undoubtedly need more firepower than she had on hand.

Looking down and pressing a button on her desk, she paged one of her most trusted employees. "Mishima, to my office immediately. The Paragon Initiative will make its official debut sooner rather than later."

With that done, she returned her gaze to the screen and opened the report that she received from Hawks. He must have garnered some especially valuable information for him to send it ahead of schedule.

"Every single time someone deigns to take a shit on mutants, here comes Big Brother to bail them out because they don't see us as citizens. They don't even see us as people!"

Solicitude dressed Mina's face as her golden eyes were glued to her phone while in the break room of the Spin Cycle Agency. She was so focused on her phone that she didn't notice the floating head slowly creep over her shoulder and peek at the screen.

"Whatcha watchin'?" Tokage asked, startling Mina with a snicker.

"This video that's been going viral this week," she answered, leaning over to allow Tokage's head a better view. "A lot of heteromorphs on social media have been tagging 'mutant renaissance' with it."

"They didn't see Minori Gokiburi as a person when they ruled her death a suicide after she was viciously murdered in a hate crime!"

Accompanying the impassioned voice were photos of the waterlogged corpse of a girl with a cockroach mutation flashing onscreen, causing both girls to flinch. These pictures were then followed by the police report that they were taken from, outlining an implied fabricated series of events and cause of death.

"They didn't see any of those innocent civilians in Jeda that were brutalized and lynched by a bunch of fucking bigots as people…"

Gruesome photos of beaten, battered, and even some mangled bodies flashed onscreen next, drawing more visceral recoiling from Mina and Tokage. Nothing was censored. No details were spared. The ravaged and violated heteromorphs were showcased in all their horrific glory.

"…when how many of those scumbags got off?"

What followed was a long series of mugshots, more than a few of which contained smiles.

"Did… did that actually happen?" Mina apprehensively voiced.

"Yes."

The new voice startled them once again, and Mina paused the video before turning to see Wash standing behind them. His wide, unblinking eyes camped in the black void within his costume never failed to unnerve them when his gaze was locked onto them.

"Seriously?" Mina asked.

Wash nodded. "It was long before your time; your parents would have only been children when it happened. Masses of quirkist Jeda citizens attacked and lynched the town's mutant population… those that didn't escape, anyhow."

Mina gasped, and even Tokage looked a bit shaken despite vaguely knowing about the event already.

"It was one of the darkest days in recent memory," Wash continued, his gaze climbing upward to stare into space. "On an emotional level, the heteromorph community never recovered from it. I hesitate to believe that they ever will…"

His attention refocused onto his two pupils. "Continue the video. I have a sneaking suspicion about what this is."

Mina nodded and acquiesced, pressing play to continue past the line of mugshots.

"They don't even see us as people right now!"

A clip taken from a political talk show played next, showing a talking head making a spirited point about the uptick in trigger usage in the mutant community that had enough dogwhistles to alert every kennel nationwide. A clip played next of a self-described member of the "Face Border Clan" appearing as a guest on a podcast where he espoused similar yet more blatantly hateful rhetoric, though the clip was ended before he and the host could devolve into a conversation about DMT.

What followed was a collection of footage of police, legislators, businesses, and shots of suspiciously non-mutant neighborhoods with the narrator continuing their tirade.

"How many mutants are profiled by police a day?! How many perfectly qualified mutants are passed over for loans, job opportunities, or housing lotteries in favor of a more human-looking candidate?! We're so deep into being second, even third-class citizens that we just accepted it as the norm when it's high time that we started fucking fighting back!"

The video then cut to a manic-looking but no less passionate man with a fox mutation, finally placing a face to the disembodied voice. In fact, his passion was so evident in both his voice and his movements that they couldn't help but remain rooted in their spots and kept their eyes glued to him.

"This is what we do, this is why we're here, THIS is our mission! Our mutant renaissance is not going to come until we stand up on our feet and fucking take it! Are you all with me?"

The fire in his blue eyes burned brighter than the sun before the screen faded to black, and then text appeared in his place to end the video:

FUKKO

REVIVAL. REBIRTH. RENAISSANCE.

"As I suspected," Wash drawled with a nod. "This is a manifesto."

"We've been seeing a lot of those lately…" Tokage muttered.

"Yeah," Wash agreed. "Japan doesn't experience a lot of domestic terrorism, comparatively speaking. We can thank All Might for that, but he's retired, as is Endeavor. If villains were going to pick a moment to make bombastic moves, now would be the time to do so. We're already seeing it on a smaller scale with the increase in violent attacks since both of their announcements. Keep your wits about you now more than ever before, you two."

Upon receiving nods from both of them, Wash's tone brightened considerably. "Now, let's go on patrol and clean the streets!"

The streets of Hosu were abuzz with activity in part due to the villain frantically zooming through said streets, zipping around cars and pedestrians alike to create a congested mess of curious and frustrated onlookers. Thinking that the traffic would slow his pursuers, a muscled villain on wheels breathed a tentative sigh of relief.

"That should stall those nutcases long enough for me to lose 'em," the wheeled villain murmured as he sped down the road, carefully weaving through (and sometimes atop) traffic.

However, his hopes were dashed when a sudden burst zipped around the crowd entirely and quickly caught up to him, revealing a fully costumed Tenya Iida hot on his trail with his engines pumping.

"You will not escape justice that easily, evildoer!" Iida shouted. "Halt your reckless escape this instant!"

"Kiss my ass!" the villain fired back as he kicked his escape into high gear, and the smell of burning rubber from the tires attached to his hands and feet wafted into his nose.

"You've made your choice, but be aware that I did attempt to warn you!" Iida declared, and the threatening roar of his engines revving up serenaded the scene. "Recipro Burst!"

Iida rocketed forward, becoming a blur even to the villain at the speeds they were already going, but he had no time to think about that before even more revving entered his ears in a violent crescendo.

"I AM SPEED!" Ingenium hollered, appearing from an alley in a flash and cutting off the villain's escape with a devastating kick that sent him airborne.

"Recipro Extend!" Iida shouted, using the explosive power from the chained usage of his engines to propel himself into the air and kick the villain back toward the ground, launching him straight into a nearby dumpster to end the pursuit.

Landing into a skid, Iida slammed the lid of the dumpster shut, and the present civilians erupted into cheers at the speedster duo's heroics. As the police arrived to regain order and quarter off the area, Ingenium sidled up beside him and placed a congratulatory hand on his shoulder.

"Great execution, bro!" Ingenium complimented. "You're already a natural at this."

"Thank you, elder brother," Iida earnestly replied with a minutely bashful nod. "I'm doing my very best to live up to our family name and your legacy as Ingenium."

"Stop that," Ingenium quickly scolded with a wave of his hand. "You're your own man. You will establish the legacy of Recipro, and it'll outshine Ingenium's in no time. Count on it."

Iida gasped, and he involuntarily clutched at his heart before bowing at a full 90 degrees. "Your faith in me truly warms my heart more than you can understand. I will do everything in my power to live up to your expectations, Tensei! You will not be disappointed!"

Ingenium could only amusedly sigh at his brother's antics. The message had gotten through at least somewhat.

"We'll take it from here, guys," a police officer said as the dazed and now stinky villain was extricated from the dumpster and placed into custody. "It sure is good to have you back, Ingenium. Hosu could really use the boost in morale now more than ever. Feels like a powder keg ready to blow these days."

The graveness of his tone stood out to Iida, but Ingenium simply nodded and bid them a friendly farewell to leave them to it, so he just did the same and followed his brother down the sidewalk to rendezvous with his sidekicks. Still, though, his curiosity ate at him until he could no longer hold it.

"What did that officer mean by that?" Iida finally spoke up.

"The city has been on edge lately," Ingenium responded, much of his usual levity gone from his tone. "The gruesome nature of the attack on Manual really shook people up right as they were recovering from Stain. Then, you've got guys like the League of Anti-Villains and whoever's been setting innocent people on fire en masse. Villain attacks are becoming a lot more brazen and a lot more violent, and it's naturally unsettling the populous."

"I can imagine…" Iida muttered, the mention of what happened to Manual causing the dark pits of his stomach to fester. He did his best to put a clamp on them, though. The last thing he wanted was to be taken back to the place Stain had dragged him.

"If only that were the end of it, though," Ingenium continued, unaware of his brother's thoughts. "Just last week, I had to put a stop to a few guys cornering a heteromorph on a side street. Who knows what they were gonna do to him had I not been passing through…"

"Really?" Iida asked in surprise and mild alarm, and he received a nod from his brother. "Why would anyone do such a heinous thing in this day and age?"

Ingenium sighed, knowing the explanation would be as exhausting for his brother as it was for him. "They were spouting something about 'cutting the tall trees down.' They believed that heteromorphs had been growing out of control, and the attack on Manual finally spurred them into action."

"That's…" Iida began, but the words just wouldn't come.

"Yeah," Ingenium nodded in agreement. "If it's not one thing, it's another."

Silence fell over the two of them as they continued their stroll, the only sounds being the continued hustle and bustle of the busy street interspersed with the occasional giddiness from passersby at the sight of Ingenium. Ingenium, looking over at his newest sidekick in all but name, could practically feel the rumination going on under his suit. Wanting to help put his mind at least a little bit at ease, he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We'll catch the guys responsible for Manual," Ingenium assured him. "I'll be damn sure of that."

"Wow, um…" Tetsutetsu muttered as he, Kirishima, and Amajiki gawked at the scene before them. "She's really packing it in…"

"No kidding…" Kirishima agreed in equal awe as Yaoyorozu knocked back an entire bowl of katsudon in one gulp before ravenously reaching for the platter of takoyaki in front of her. Beside her, a much slimmer Fat Gum shoveled food into his mouth just as voraciously, slowly restoring the fat that he burned during their latest battle.

"I've never seen someone keep up with Fat Gum like this," Amajiki said with a twinge of fear. "Is this normal?"

"She usually has to eat a lot to restore her lipids after overusing her quirk," Kirishima answered, still unable to pry his gaze away from the feeding frenzy. "I didn't know she was able to spawn a whole friggin attack helicopter, though…"

And she had. A turf war between two rival gangs spilled out into the streets and put civilians at risk, and Fat Gum with his four newest protégés arrived on the scene to quell it. Unfortunately, things took a turn when one group produced vials of trigger, whereas the other group that consisted of more than a few heteromorphs produced their own trigger as well as vials of zoo trigger.

The result? A vicious, chaotic shitstorm involving rampaging lobsters, a man covered in meter-long horns, an unstoppable fire hydrant, and a horrific monster that would later be described in the news as, "Cthulhu with wings."

So, naturally, the group had to give it their all to stop the near riot while keeping civilians safe, which inevitably ended up in Yaoyorozu taking down the flying, eldritch abomination with her impromptu air support while Fat Gum tanked the blows of the crustacean onslaught before blasting them into blissful unconsciousness with a single punch. It was the manliest thing both Kirishima and Tetsutetsu had ever witnessed.

Once the situation had been cleaned up and the villains were taken into custody, the group was treated to an all-you-can-eat buffet at a nearby restaurant by the owner as thanks for keeping his establishment in one piece, and he absolutely would not allow Yaoyorozu to pay for a single thing.

That, in hindsight, may have been a miscalculation on his part, as even his jaw had taken up residence on the ground while watching her and Fat Gum annihilate everything on the menu and then some within minutes. His staff were working in maximum overdrive to keep the insatiable duo sufficiently fed, as he had to assist the other three boys in prying them off of each other when they got into a vicious fight over the last plate of tonkatsu.

"Thank you for coming, Shishido," Nezu said with a smile and poured a cup of his finest ujicha, offering it to the beastly hero in front of him at his desk. "Tea?"

"Sure," Shishido gruffly accepted the offered cup and took a long sip, inadvertently downing the entire cup in one gulp. "Gotta say, I was surprised when I got your message, but it must be important for you to ask for me to meet with you directly instead of sending a video drone or something."

"You'd be correct," Nezu confirmed, and his smile somewhat dimmed. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Shishido stared blankly at Nezu in response, and Nezu simply stared back. The two sat in silence for ten uninterrupted seconds until Shishido finally spoke:

"I'm either going to love this or absolutely hate this with no in-between, aren't I?" Shishido asked In resignation, more than familiar with his long-time comrade's complex and unorthodox machinations.

"As always," Nezu agreed. "What do you know of the Meta Liberation Army?"

"The revolutionaries led by Destro?" Shishido questioned, and Nezu nodded. "Bunch of guys who wanted unregulated quirk usage so much that they fought the government for it."

"More or less," Nezu said before taking a sip of his tea.

"I thought they were wiped out decades ago," Shishido mused, stroking his muzzle. "They still around or something?"

"Unfortunately," Nezu confirmed. "However, they exist in a different variety than their previous incarnation. No longer are they simply a militia centered around a specific goal. Through my investigation over the years, I've surmised that they have likely wormed their way into positions of great influence within several facets of our society. This means that when they deem it time to strike, they could capsize the nation in one fell swoop before quickly filling in the gaps themselves, righting their own newly acquired ship."

"I see…" Shishido mused, leaning back in his seat as he took all of that in. "Sounds like it'll be a bitch and a half to take down. What do you need me for?"

"Recently, I discovered that one of our students was wading near the MLA pipeline," Nezu explained, and Shishido immediately understood the gravity of it. "While he now won't prove to pose a problem, it did give me an idea to properly assess the MLA's threat level in detail."

"You want me to go undercover," Shishido plainly stated.

"Never let it be said that there isn't a brain behind that mane of yours," Nezu said with a pleased smile.

"Damn right," Shishido gruffed. "Eat your heart out, Orca."

"Back to the matter at hand," Nezu refocused. "Based on the activity of the region, we can already assume that they have a healthy fighting force. What I want to know is how far their roots spread. What industries are they in? Do they have any agents within the government? How far does their meddling go on an administrative level after the various takedowns of their indoctrination districts I oversaw?"

Upon Shishido's nod of understanding, Nezu continued. "I strongly suspect that Detnerat is bankrolling a lot of their activities and that Shoowaysha Publishing is influencing the media for their benefit, but I want to know the full extent of their non-combat operations if we're going to properly take them down with minimal civilian casualties."

"Understandable," Shishido nodded again.

"I do have an idea about how we can get you into the fold through one of their feeder cells," Nezu began, but Shishido stopped him.

"No need," he said, garnering the principal's curiosity. "I have suspicions of my own about someone that could potentially get me inside."

"Do tell," Nezu said, clasping his paws.

"Slidin' Go's been saying some cryptic shit to me for a while now," Shishido admitted. "I'm pretty public about my desire to free the beast every now and then. I'm a big freedom of expression guy, and given my quirk's sorta feral nature, it's nice to be able to go wild once in a while. With that in mind, every time I come across Slidin' Go, he's always going on about how much he admires my mentality and how limiting quirk laws in Japan are. I honestly thought he was trying to talk me out of my pants for a while."

"Was it working?" Nezu asked.

"That's beside the point," Shishido hurried along. "He'd always say without fail that he would just like to feel liberated once he's retired, and I never really understood that because why the fuck would an old man still wanna slide around everywhere and end up breaking a hip? But this conversation contextualized some things he's been saying. I'm almost certain that he's been covertly trying to recruit me."

"Intriguing," Nezu mused. "It makes sense that he would attempt to sway a high-ranking pro hero if he thought it possible given your stance. What do you intend to do?"

"I'll ask him about it the next time I see him, which should be soon," Shishido answered. "Our agencies have a team-up in the works."

"Excellent," Nezu nodded with a smile. "Keep me posted about what you learn. I want to know how many jars they have their hands in, and if there are potentially any factions within the collective that have the potential to splinter off and go rogue, I'd like to know that, as well. It's inevitable that at least one exists with a militia that large."

"Can do," Shishido agreed.

The soft blue of the sky cast a gentle serenity over the courtyard. Izuku lay on the grass and allowed the calmness to overtake him, soaking in every moment of peace he was allowed. Laying directly opposite to him with her head touching his was Yui doing much the same. There the two lay watching the clouds slowly drift overhead, occasionally pointing out the peculiar shapes they saw. In fact…

"There's a chicken," Yui softly mentioned, pointing to a place in the sky where a vaguely bird-shaped cloud came into view.

Izuku snorted and examined the cloud in question. "I guess if you squint hard enough, you can make out a chicken."

"Mm," she shrugged and continued gazing at the sky, but Izuku soon spoke up with a cloud of his own.

"That one looks like All Might," he pointed out in reference to a cloud that had two wisps jutting out of one side.

"They all look like All Might to you," she chuckled.

"I can't help it if the Heavens themselves recognize his glory," Izuku hammed it up, eliciting further laughter from Yui.

"Don't let Shiozaki hear you, lest you be called a blasphemer," she joked, and then her gaze landed on a third interesting cloud. "That one is Pac-Man."

Izuku looked to where she was pointing expecting to see a wobbly puff ball that might have appeared to have a chunk missing from it, but what he actually saw was a near-perfect circle missing a single sector with three small dots hovering in front of it. If that wasn't enough, the circle was being tailed by another perfectly smooth cloud in the shape of a ghost.

"Oh…" Izuku lamely muttered once he got over his surprise. "I guess it is…"

A victorious chortle escaped her in response. "How is your work-study going?"

"I honestly can't complain," Izuku responded. "I love being out on patrol with Mirko, and even our spars are fun and incredibly informative. I'm learning so much from her."

"I'm glad," Yui remarked. "You're already making quite the name for yourself out there."

Izuku bashfully shrugged. "That's most likely due to association. No one would be talking about me if I wasn't attached to Mirko."

Unconvinced silence was all the answer Izuku received, and he sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I am a trouble magnet that has found himself in the center of all manners of comical mischief."

"There we go," she replied with a smile. "That said, I'm surprised that you're here today and not on patrol with her."

"She had something to take care of back in Hiroshima," Izuku shrugged. "I didn't ask too many questions since it's hard enough getting her to slow down for even a single moment, so this little sabbatical might be the only break she takes for the next 30 years or so, assuming Ryukyu can't force her to take another. It's nice to get a break every once in a while. I don't expect it to last long, though."

"My heart goes out to you," Yui deadpanned.

"You have a heart?" Izuku sniped back.

She smirked. "Touché."

A chuckle of his own wormed its way out of Izuku, and the two settled into a comfortable silence, content with gazing at the sky in the calming presence of one another. However, whether Izuku wanted to admit it or not, silence had been his enemy practically since he arrived at UA, as every moment of respite from the USJ onward was comprised of him either confronting or compartmentalizing something traumatic. This moment was inevitably no different, as thoughts about the current investigation he and Mirko had been undergoing crept into his mind and made themselves at home.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Yui spoke up, drawing Izuku out of said deluge of thoughts.

"Were they that loud?" he sheepishly asked.

"Mm," she nodded, and then she rolled onto her side and gently ran her hand through Izuku's nest of hair to help put him at ease. "What's on your mind?"

He sighed again, this time in a mixture of contentedness and resignation. "I think we're coming up on something big."

"How do you figure?" she asked.

"Mirko's been on edge about something involving heteromorphs lately, and it involves the phrase, 'mutant renaissance.'"

Yui quirked an eyebrow at that. "Like in that video?"

"Mhm," he confirmed. "The vibe of it lends some credence to a villain group plotting something huge in the shadows, and she wants to nip it in the bud before it gets a chance to take off."

"You will," Yui assured him. "You've faced worse things head-on."

"I guess being kidnapped by All For One and coming out alive is kind of hard to top," Izuku chuckled, but that chuckle quickly petered out. "There's one thing about that video that's really bothering me, though."

"Mm?"

"The girl they showed, Minori Gokiburi; the one whose murder was ruled a suicide."

"You knew her?"

Izuku shook his head. "Not personally. She was a friend of a friend. Her grave was robbed recently, and they stole her body. Then, she's mentioned by name alongside pictures and the phony police report."

That made Yui fully turn to be on her stomach before she propped herself up on her knees. "You think the two are related?"

Izuku ran a weary hand through his hair. "It'd be a helluva coincidence if they weren't."

Yui hummed and looked to the sky, mulling over the possibilities. "I can't imagine why they'd rob her grave before exposing the sketchy circumstances around the reporting of her death. Maybe it's quirk-related?"

That got Izuku's attention, and he sat up to meet her gaze. "I suppose it's a possibility. What do you have in mind?"

She placed a finger on her chin. "Maybe resurrection? There are all kinds of quirks out there, so it wouldn't surprise me if one could bring people back to life by exchanging one life for another, or maybe they have one that turns the dead into puppets. It could be anything, really."

Izuku took a long moment to consider her words, and then flickers of blue fire ignited as he closed his eyes.

'You there, Matatabi?'

"I am everywhere, human."

Izuku fought back a smirk at that response. 'Right. Have any souls been… well, stolen from you recently?'

"Not in your dimension."

'….You say that like there are others.'

"Did I stutter?"

Izuku killed the blue flames, content with derailing that train of thought before it could go anywhere.

"Find anything?" Yui asked. She wasn't sure what the blue flames did exactly, but she figured from the concentration dressing his face that he was searching for something.

"Nothing useful," he shook his head before falling back down to the grass. "I suppose there's no use agonizing over it right now. It's just another lead for Mirko and me to investigate later."

"Mm," she hummed before laying back down opposite him, her head resting on his shoulder this time around.

The two settled into another comfortable silence. There they lay, gazing at the sky once more in the comfort of each other's company. The outing was a much-needed reprieve for Izuku. He could certainly stay like this in perpetuity. That was, at least, until…

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"Annnnd we're done here."

The front door swung open, and a tired Kuzunoha Okami stepped into her apartment, bending down to fit through the doorway, of course. Being three meters tall was really annoying at times, but at least she was guaranteed to reach most things on the shelves at the grocery store. She didn't even mind the occasional stares she got from young children (and a few particularly unsubtle adults); the stares were so much less malicious in the city than they were in her hometown growing up…

She shook those thoughts away. She left all of that behind years ago. This was her life now, and she loved it. She was happy, and nothing would take that away from her.

Slipping off her shoes and removing her coat before hanging it up, she ran her hand through her long, blonde locks before strolling past her kitchen and into her living room, completely none the wiser to the silent footsteps emerging from her bedroom closet. A pair of cold, violet eyes landed on her from within the darkness waiting for a positive or negative signal from Deika City.

One could physically touch the tension in the atmosphere within the van driving down the empty road. Silence serenaded Fukko's journey through Aichi Prefecture toward Deika City. No words were spoken because there was nothing to say. In only a matter of a few kilometers, the fight of their lives would be upon them, and whether or not they were truly ready, they were going to ram full speed ahead…

…provided there wasn't a blockade of other black vans on the street directly in their path, which there apparently happened to be.

Chimera at the wheel slowed the van to a halt and sat directly in front of the blockade where several people were waiting on them, one of them even being a pro hero in a purple costume. Before Chimera could put the van in reverse and drive away from what looked to be a trap, a man with a long head of hair as black as the fitted suit he wore lifted a megaphone to his mouth.

"Welcome, Fukko," he greeted with a slight smile. "We appreciate you traveling so far to meet us face-to-face. We'll be escorting you all directly to the Grand Commander."

Chimera looked to Weaver in the passenger seat not taking her eyes off of the man, and then he turned to Kitsune and the rest of the group sitting in the back. "What now?"

"Humor 'em," Kitsune answered. "If they're really gonna take us directly to the head honcho, then it'll make this all the easier. Let's roll."

Nodding, Chimera opened the door and stepped out of the van with Weaver doing the same on the other side. The rear doors were opened, and the others began filing out of the back. Mirage was about to follow their lead until Kitsune stopped her. Turning to him, she was surprised when he pulled something out of his waistband and handed it to her, and her surprise climbed even further when she saw that it was Kajiro Akamoto's pistol he was handing her.

"Remember: shoulders square, just like we practiced," he said, looking her in the eye until he received a nod. Once he did, he smiled and ruffled her hair, to which she quickly smacked his arm away with a huff.

With the entire group now out of the van, Kitsune led them toward the welcoming committee. Now that he had a better look at them, a spark of recognition flickered within him when he came face-to-face with the man with the megaphone.

"Koku Hanabata," Kitsune mused. "Leader of the Hearts and Minds Party. Deregulation and empowerment through self-sufficiency is your whole platform. Makes sense that you'd be an MLA stooge."

Hanabata's smile tightened at the slight but remained in place. "Please, let's not dally. Our Grand Commander patiently awaits your arrival."

He turned and opened the doors to another van for them to pile into, and after a moment's hesitation, they did so. Once they were inside, the purple-clad hero closed the door, and Hanabata got into the passenger's seat while another man drove them away toward their destination.

They couldn't see much from the windshield with their views being obscure by the two men up front, but what they were able to see stood out to them. Not once did they see any cars, pedestrians, or any activity to speak of during the trip. They didn't even hear anything except the humming of the engine on their uninterrupted trek.

"City feels pretty empty," Viper muttered, unable to help himself from commenting on the unsettling setting.

"This is a liberated district," Hanabata explained. "90% of Deika City's population are hidden liberation warriors, and they've all been made aware of the splendor of this day. The coming festivities will be glorious."

The entirety of Fukko stared at him in wary confusion, mildly alarmed by the unsubtle threat he had so casually uttered. Mirage slowly reached for the gun, but Kitsune stayed her hand and motioned for her to wait. Attacking now would only jumpstart their plans, and they'd be easy to ambush while still in the van.

She reluctantly complied, and the rest of the trip was made in silence. Because there was no one else on the road and no traffic lights to bother stopping at, they made it to their destination in short order. They gazed up at the skyscraper, no doubt housing the Grand Commander at the very top floor.

"He shall see you all up," Hanabata said, motioning to the man who had driven them there before stepping back and bowing. "We hope you enjoy your time here."

Fukko's collective gaze remained on him, thoroughly searching him and trying to determine what his deal was. Unfortunately, they saw no success, which was to be expected given he was a politician. Still, as the other, unnamed man ushered the group into the building, Kitsune's gaze lingered on him. Without ending his bow, Hanabata looked up at him over the yellow rim of his purple-tinted lens and flashed him a confident smirk. There was no challenge with that expression, almost as if the coming events of the day were a foregone conclusion and that they weren't worth the effort.

The mere thought lit the embers of rage within him, threatening to reignite the burning fury that drove him to this point. He remained firm, though. The entire city would all die before the day was over. With that self-assurance, he turned and followed the rest of his group into the building.

Several elevator rides later, they were in front of a spacious conference room housing a large, mahogany roundtable, and sitting at the table with a self-assured smile was the Grand Commander himself. He surveyed them through a haughty, half-lidded gaze, completely unconcerned with what was to come.

"Fukko, it's wonderful to finally meet you all in person," Re-Destro greeted them, and then he motioned for them all to sit at the eight blood-red chairs that were already prepared for them. "Please, have a seat. There's no need to waste any time."

Each of the eight heteromorphs remained standing for a brief moment before Kitsune stepped forward and took the seat directly opposite Re-Destro. His acquiescence encouraged the others to follow suit, with his sister taking the seat directly to his right and keeping a tight grasp of the pistol she was given.

"Now, let's get down to business-," Re-Destro began before he was cut off.

"My sister," Kitsune growled, his glare ice cold.

"Your sister is fine, Okami," Re-Destro responded before he was interrupted once again.

"Kitsune," he corrected with a greater edge to his tone.

If Re-Destro was perturbed by the continued interruptions, he didn't show it. He simply nodded in understanding. "Bad memories tied to that surname, I presume. Such a shame. Lineage is a powerful thing. It is special. It possesses a direct correlation to your pedigree as a metahuman."

Re-Destro sighed. "But, I digress. Your sister is still alive… until I give the order to end her life."

"If you so much as breathe a single hair out of place on her-"

"That's what we're here for, isn't it?" It was Re-Destro's turn to interrupt, and the way his smile grew ever so slightly indicated to Kitsune that he was relishing the petty vengeance. "I graciously invited you here as a like-minded soul desiring to fight against an oppressive system. Put everything else out of your mind for the moment."

The embers of fury that were present earlier had begun to ignite into a brighter flame, but Kitsune strangled that fury as best as he could, taking a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

"Fine," Kitsune growled, opening his eyes once again to glare bloody murder at Re-Destro. "What do you want?"

"In all honesty?" Re-Destro began. "I want to see your conviction. I've stayed abreast of your activities; normally, rumblings of a mutant street gang tearing heroes apart and funneling trigger onto the streets wouldn't have ever come under my notice. However, you're not just some simple street gang, are you?"

Kitsune quirked an eyebrow at him, but he didn't say anything, only motioning for him to continue with his point.

"You all have a mantra that's been catching serious fire as of late," Re-Destro said. "Calls of a mutant renaissance have stormed the internet far and wide, even breaching out of Japan and into the wider world. You have so many of all colors and creeds co-opting this catchphrase because they, too, wish to see a better future for heteromorphs the world over. It's a beautifully universal message that's ripe for capitalization."

Re-Destro's smile fell, and his countenance grew dark. "And yet, what have you done with this bird in the hand? You proliferate drugs directly to the community you claim to want to uplift, inevitably further tarnishing the reputation of that community in the eyes of the populous. And for what? Simple financial gain? Or is it some convoluted scheme to use the vulnerable to agitate the intolerant into driving more mutants toward their anger, all with the goal of sowing chaos and discord?"

"Watch your fucking mouth, bozo," Weaver spat, clearly ready to get this show on the road already.

"Weaver," Kitsune said in a dangerous tone that immediately brokered no argument from her, his aggravation at being scolded like an ignorant child plain to see. When she reluctantly settled back down, Kitsune's piercing glare narrowed with dwindling patience. "Get to the point."

"I'm having difficulty reconciling your actions with your apparent goals," Re-Destro summarized, unfazed by what had just occurred. "So, what is your purpose? Why does Fukko exist? Is it to enact societal change? Is it to be a societal disruptor? Is it simply to take up space? Is it to spice up an otherwise vacant portion of the narrative? What do you seek to gain from your metahuman existence?"

Kitsune actually took some time to mull that over. Closing his eyes again, he kicked around Re-Destro's analysis of them in his mind. This was something he had been thinking about for quite some time.

Opening his eyes, he stared Re-Destro in the eye. "Since the dawn of humanity, those who were different were either othered or cast away completely. This didn't change when quirks appeared. At first, everyone with these abilities was demonized and othered. I'm sure you're already aware of this."

"It set the events into motion for Destro's grand revolution," Re-Destro remarked with a nod.

"A revolution that was ultimately a failure," Kitsune added, and the tightening of Re-Destro's fists on the table did nothing to deter him. "Only when the quirked population became the rule and not the exception were they able to find acceptance. It wasn't tolerance that did it, simply the shifting of the scales in favor of the quirked. Now, people without quirks are the abnormalities, and they're treated like it."

Kitsune leaned back in his chair. "Even while the societal balance shifted in favor of the quirked and away from the quirkless, one constant remained: people who were different were still othered. Where it used to be race, religion, and sexual orientation, now it's all of that and the kind of quirk that you have."

"Meta abilities are important," Re-Destro spoke up.

"Sure, but let's not pretend that people with powerful quirks don't hold a demonstrably higher standing in our hero-worshipping society," Kitsune countered. "Not every quirk is powerful or useful. In fact, most aren't. The lion's share of them are pretty mundane, so when we as a society come across one that's just pouring with power and potential, we laud them, put them on a pedestal, tell them that they'll make a great hero and do great things one day…"

Kitsune's glare grew even darker, as did his tone. "…Except when that power is undesirable, gross, villainous, or just plain weird. At that point, they're no longer pouring with potential, you just want them to get outta your sight. Their biology which was supposed to be working in their favor is now actively working against them, and there isn't a goddamn thing they can do about it."

No one commented on the fact that Kitsune's claws were now digging into the table, carving rough lines into the mahogany.

"And what's more undesirable than a mutation that makes you look anything but human in a society that plastered a shiny veneer of tolerance over a dark, seedy underbelly of hatred and quirkism?" Kitsune finished with a mirthless chuckle before bringing his clawed, feral fingers into a steeple. "So, you asked who we are: we are the ones that will break the cycle. We will expose this broken, bigoted society for what it is and lead the abnormal, the oppressed, and the spat upon to the salvation that they rightfully deserve. We will ignite the flames of mutant pride and finally take exactly what we're owed, and we will burn anything and everything that stands in our way."

It was now Re-Destro's turn to silently mull over what had been said. There was a lot to take in and even more to unpack, but he was doing so quickly, and he couldn't say that he disliked all that he had heard.

"You're quite an interesting man, Kitsune," Re-Destro remarked. "Passionate, and certainly charismatic, but oh so naive."

Kitsune scoffed, but Re-Destro pressed on. "Perhaps it's just youthful ignorance that leads you to be so unaware of just how these things work. Tell me; what exactly is your plan to carry out this revolution of yours?"

Another mirthless chuckle escaped Kitsune's snout. "You weren't exactly off base with your assessment earlier about us intentionally provoking agitators to rile up our target audience. Distributing zoo trigger to mutant communities so that they go wild and the many quirkist responses to them just pour gasoline on the house of cards that is our current society. All it needs now is one little spark for it to all go up in flames."

Re-Destro hummed. "And where does the Meta Liberation Army and its mission of liberating society from the shackles of regulation on their natural rights as metahumans fit into all of this?"

"It doesn't," Kitsune shrugged. "Sorry about that, but I don't particularly care for you after you threatened my family, and I don't think our goals align all that much. We both want to collapse the status quo, but that's about as far as that goes."

"Then it seems we are at an ideological impasse," Re-Destro disappointedly mused. "Shame. I was beginning to find you quite fascinating, Kitsune. However, only Destro and his vision can lead the liberation of our society, and anyone who wishes to overtake Destro's name and influence must be eliminated."

Strange, black markings crept up Re-Destro's neck and spread to the left half of his face as he grinned maliciously at them. "So, either you all fall in line, or you fall into a grave."

Receiving the threat and responding in kind, the familiar red, translucent miasma began developing over Kitsune as the other tensed up. His cerulean irises bled into crimson, and his pupils narrowed into slits. "We won't be doing either. We'll kill you and every last one of your little soldiers."

Re-Destro chuckled, then he brought his hand to his face and lowly muttered, "Now," into the cuff of his sleeve. Suddenly, Chimera, who was sitting on the left end of the group, vanished with a pop. Before the shock of the unexpected occurrence could set in, each one of them began vanishing, as well, leaving no trace that they were ever there to begin with. Mirage nearly raised the pistol at Re-Destro's head just before she, too, vanished with a pop, and a horribly befuddled Kitsune was left alone with a grinning Re-Destro.

Then, he looked down at the empty chairs and saw small markings in the seats that were glowing a bright white, but within moments, they faded away to the dull red of blood expertly camouflaged by the color of the chair. As the extent of the trap they had deliberately walked into began to dawn on him, Kitsune turned a furious glare at Re-Destro, the fire within him roaring for blood.

"Now that everyone is on their own, we'll get to see if their convictions are as strong as yours," Re-Destro mocked before his left arm quickly bulged and bulked up to several times its size to easily catch Kitsune's lightning-fast pounce. Then, he clamped down on Kitsune's arm and slammed him into the mahogany table, shattering it and splashing wood every which way. Finally, he tossed Kitsune into the air and backhanded him through the window and out of the tower, all without moving a muscle other than his arm.

"This should be exciting," Re-Destro chuckled.