An Empire

In the wake of Mayor Varn's downfall, Carthis was a city reborn from its ashes, its scars slowly mending under the quiet guidance of Kael Ishiro, known to its people as Equinox. From the shadows, he and his followers had begun the arduous task of rebuilding, using the $2.4 million in unmarked bills and repurposed technology seized from Varn's corrupt empire.

The money funded food, medicine, and shelter for the displaced, transforming abandoned warehouses into community hubs and barren lots into gardens. The tech—once tools of oppression—was turned into resources for liberation: medical equipment to heal the wounded, defensive barriers to protect the vulnerable, and communication networks to unite the city's fractured communities.

Kael's followers, a mix of hardened survivors and hopeful idealists, worked tirelessly under his direction, their loyalty forged not just by his power but by his unrelenting commitment to their cause. Carthis was no longer a containment zone; it was a beacon of resistance, a testament to what could be built when hope defied tyranny. Yet, even as the city began to heal, Kael knew the greater war loomed—a war against All for One, whose shadow stretched far beyond Carthis's borders.

…

The war room deep within Zone Blackridge was dim, lit only by the shifting holograms on the table's surface—maps of Carthis's rebuilding efforts, data readouts of supply lines, and flickering numbers looping through potential threat analyses.

Kael stood at its center, arms crossed, his shadow stretching across the concrete floor like a specter of the battles he'd fought. His long black coat hung open, its frayed hem brushing the floor, his black eyes glinting with a quiet intensity that seemed to absorb the dim light.

The room was small, utilitarian, with cold concrete walls and a single steel table, its stark design amplifying the weight of the moment. Mira leaned against the far wall, her violet eyes reflecting the soft glow as she traced the edge of a data tablet with absent fingers. They were alone, the silence between them heavy with unspoken questions and the burden of their shared fight.

Kael's voice broke the stillness, low and deliberate, carrying the weight of a man who'd seen too much yet refused to break. "Tell me more about those ranks All for One assigns. I know about the number system, but I want to understand what I'm really up against."

Mira looked up, the faint glow of the tablet casting shadows across her sharp features. She set it down, her movements precise, almost mechanical, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of something softer—regret, perhaps, or the ghost of a past she couldn't escape. "The system's simple, in a twisted way," she said, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of bitterness.

"The stronger you are, the more loyal you are, the lower your number. Ranks One through Ten—those are his elites. Each one's a force of nature, Kael. Not even Heroes like All Might would challenge them alone. They're unpredictable, ruthless, and bound to him in ways that go beyond choice."

Kael's expression tightened, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he processed her words. His mind flickered to the faces of Carthis's people—children drawing stick figures of their hero, families rebuilding homes with the resources he'd stolen from Varn. He couldn't falter now, not when their hope rested on him. "What about Sable Vex? Rank Nine. The man All for One turned into a monster for 'betraying' his cause."

Mira nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Sable was the weakest of the top ten—not in power, but in resolve. His Quirk, Oblivion Stare, not only lets him erase memories from whoever he looked at, but could allow him to see through lies, see truths hidden even from the user. It was terrifying, but his mind was fraying. He started questioning All for One's orders, doubting the cause he'd sworn to. I think… he slowly started forgetting why he joined. That's why you got through to him, Kael. You showed him a truth he couldn't ignore, and he chose to fight for it, even if it cost him everything."

Kael paced slowly around the table, his boots echoing in the quiet room. Each step was measured, but his mind churned with the memory of Sable's transformation—a man reduced to a beast, his body twisted by All for One's fail-safe. The image haunted him, a reminder of the enemy's cruelty and his mentors death.

"That transformation," Kael said, his voice low, almost a growl. "When he lost control, became that… thing. That was All for One's doing. A punishment for defiance."

Mira's eyes darkened, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Yeah. I've never seen it before, but I'd bet my life it's coded into the Quirks he gives his elites. The top ten—they know too much. His plans, his motives, maybe even where he hides. Those Quirks come with a backdoor, a mutation trigger. If they disobey, it wakes up like a virus, tearing them apart from the inside. Sable's betrayal triggered it, and he unfortunately paid the price."

Kael exhaled through his nose, his hands curling into fists. The air around him seemed to grow heavier, his Quirks stirring beneath his skin like a storm held in check. Balancekeeper, his core Quirk, let him steal, store, and grant powers with a touch, but every transfer carried an emotional weight—anger, guilt, the pain of those whose Quirks he'd taken.

Giving Quick Reflex to Mira, Endless Stride to Reina, and powers to his other followers had left scars on his soul, each one a reminder of the cost of his fight. "So turning your back on him means death," he said, his voice thick with restrained anguish.

"Exactly," Mira said softly, her gaze dropping to the floor. "None of them get to choose when they're done. Not really."

The silence that followed was suffocating, pressing against Kael's chest like a physical force. He could feel the ghosts of Carthis's suffering, the faces of those he'd saved, and the countless others who died because of their Mayor who had been working under All for One. He leaned forward, palms pressing against the war table, the holographic maps casting faint blue light across his face. "You have multiple Quirks," he said, his voice steady but probing. "How did you earn them again?"

Mira hesitated, her fingers tightening around her arms as she crossed them. Her voice was calm, but the words came slowly, each one laced with a raw edge of shame she couldn't fully hide. "I earned them by proving I was useful. By showing I could kill without hesitation. Destroy the people he saw as enemies—Heroes, innocents, anyone who stood in his way. I did it for power, Kael. To avenge my sister. All for One dangled that strength in front of me, and I took it."

Her eyes met his, bracing for judgment, for the condemnation she'd always feared. But Kael's gaze held no accusation, only understanding—a quiet, unwavering empathy that cut through her defenses.

"I get it," he said, his voice soft but firm. "You did what you had to. In a world run by monsters, you either become one or get eaten. You wanted justice for your sister, and he exploited that. I'll never blame you for surviving, Mira. Never."

Mira's throat tightened, her violet eyes glistening for a fleeting moment before she blinked it away. She looked at him for a long moment, searching his face for any trace of deceit, but found only sincerity. Her voice was barely audible, a whisper heavy with gratitude and pain. "You should. But… thank you, Kael."

He straightened, his expression softening but not losing its intensity. The weight of Carthis's rebuilding efforts—the families fed, the homes restored—grounded him, but the fight ahead loomed larger. "Now I tried asking you this when we first joined forces, but we were interrupted then, but now is a good time."

Mira's brow lifted slightly, a flicker of curiosity breaking through her guarded demeanor.

"How many?" Kael asked, his voice low, almost reverent. "How many people bear his sigil? How many followers does All for One really have?"

Mira's expression darkened, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of the answer pressed down on her. She sighed, setting the data tablet aside and crossing her arms, her gaze distant. "There are ten billion people on Earth, Kael. Eight billion with Quirks—some weak, some catastrophic. But out of those…"

She paused, her throat working as she swallowed hard, the number heavy on her tongue. "Twenty thousand serve him."

Kael's breath caught, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before narrowing again. The number was a blade, cutting through the fragile hope he'd built in Carthis. "Twenty thousand?" he echoed, the words tasting like ash. "That's not an army. That's an…"

"Empire," Mira finished, her voice a whisper. "And that's just the ones marked with his sigil. There are others—countless others—who work for him without knowing it. Operatives in plain sight, never seeing his face, never hearing his name, but carrying out his will. His network spans continents, Kael. Some don't even know they're serving him."

Kael turned away, his boots heavy as he walked toward the massive window overlooking Carthis. The city sprawled below, its lights flickering like fragile stars in the darkness, each one a life he'd fought to protect. The gardens, the shelters, the laughter of children drawing stick figures of their hero—it all felt so small against the shadow of twenty thousand. He pressed a hand against the cold glass, his reflection staring back—tired, burdened, but burning with a fire that refused to die. "All this time," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "we've been rebuilding, hiding, waiting… when we should've been striking. Cutting them down before his numbers grow even larger."

Mira stepped up beside him, her presence steady despite the weight of her own past. Her voice was soft but firm, carrying a conviction that anchored him. "You're not wrong. But it's not that simple. Some of those twenty thousand were forced to have that lifestyle. Like me. Like Kai. Some are just scared, trapped by what he can do to them without lifting a finger."

Kael's jaw tightened, his fist clenching at his side. The memory of Sable Vex's twisted form flashed in his mind, a man who'd dared to defy All for One and paid with his humanity. "I know," he said quietly, his voice thick with restrained anguish. "That's what kills me. I can't go scorched earth. I can't treat them all like enemies. But if I hesitate, even for a second, people die. We might die."

He stared out at the city, the weight of his responsibility pressing down like a physical force. The faces of Carthis's people flashed through his mind—children running through rebuilt streets, families sharing meals in community hubs. "How do I tell who's worth saving and who's too far gone?" he asked, his voice raw, almost breaking.

Mira looked down, her fingers tracing the edge of her sleeve, a nervous habit she rarely showed. "You can't," she admitted, her voice quiet but honest. "Not every time. But maybe… maybe the answer isn't in figuring out who to save. Maybe it's about making a world they want to be saved by."

Kael paused, her words sinking into him like a lifeline. He turned to her, his black eyes searching hers, finding a resolve that mirrored his own. For a moment, the weight of his burden felt lighter, shared by someone who understood its cost. He dragged his fingers across the war table, the holographic enemy locations blinking like embers in the dark. His reflection in the glass was no longer just tired—it was determined, forged by the hope Mira's words had sparked.

"We need to change strategies," he said at last, his voice steady, a fire kindling within it. "Enough waiting. Enough hiding. We'll keep rebuilding Carthis, giving these people a future. But I'm done sitting in the dark. We root out his followers—one by one. If they wear his mark and mean it, they fall. If they're victims, like you, they get a choice."

Mira's eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern breaking through her resolve. "And if they lie?"

Kael's gaze was unyielding, a storm brewing in his eyes. "I'll know."

The room settled into silence, but it was no longer heavy with despair. It was the silence before a storm, charged with purpose and resolve. Kael looked out one last time at Carthis—the city he'd saved, the people who believed in him, the war he'd yet to win—and nodded to himself, a vow taking root in his heart.

"Tell Reina," he said, his voice firm, carrying the weight of a leader ready to act. "It's time we started moving."

…

In the lab sector, Dr. Sato, a wiry scientist with sharp eyes and a perpetual frown, adjusted the dials on a reinforced console. "From Varn's gear, I extracted a physical modifier compound," he said, holding up a syringe filled with a shimmering liquid. "Permanent muscle reinforcement, no genetic backlash. It's not a Quirk, but it'll make you stronger, tougher—for good."

Kael rolled up his sleeve, his expression unyielding, though a flicker of anticipation burned in his eyes. The weight of twenty thousand enemies pressed against him, but this—this could give him an edge. "Inject it."

Sato hesitated, his frown deepening. "You sure? It's permanent, and it's untested on someone with your… extensive Quirks."

"Do it," Kael said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The needle pierced his arm, and a surge of heat flooded his body—not destructive, but transformative, like a forge reshaping his very being. His muscles tightened, his senses sharpening as the compound bonded with his physiology, locking into place with a permanence that felt like destiny. Sato pointed at a collapsed structural beam nearby, its twisted metal a relic of Carthis's fall. "Prove it."

Kael approached the beam, his boots echoing on the concrete. He placed both hands beneath it, his fingers curling around the cold steel, and lifted. The beam groaned, its weight immense, but it rose effortlessly, the compound amplifying his strength beyond human limits. He held it one-handed for a moment, his arm steady, the power coursing through him like a second heartbeat. He set it down with a controlled thud, the floor trembling beneath him.

Mira, who had followed him to the lab, stepped forward, her arms crossed, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and concern. "You just lifted over forty tons, Kael. That's… permanent?"

Kael flexed his hand, feeling the newfound strength settle into his bones, a gift and a burden he'd carry for the rest of his fight. "Good," he said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "We're going to need it."

He turned to Mira, his black eyes intense, his words carrying the weight of a vow. "This is the next phase. All for One's coming, and he won't stop until he's crushed us. But we're not just fighting to survive. We're fighting to build something that outlasts him—a world worth saving."

Mira nodded, her expression resolute, her voice steady. "We're with you, Kael. All the way. You've given us power, made us more than we were. We've got your back."

Kael's gaze softened for a moment, a rare flicker of warmth breaking through his stoic facade. "I know. And I'm counting on it."

As they left the lab, the weight of their mission settled over them, a storm gathering on the horizon. Kael's Quirks, his followers, his vision—they were pieces of a larger fight, one that would test them all. But a little girl's drawing flashed in his mind—a stick figure in a black coat, standing against a monster. Her words echoed: *Follow what's in your heart. But don't forget what's in everyone else's.* Carthis was rising, its people rebuilding with hope he'd fought to give them. The war was far from over, but a flicker of belief stirred within him—a fragile, unyielding resolve that he could not just destroy, but create a world where no one would need to become a monster to survive.