Chapter 215 : Dawn Over the Wreckage

The dawn breaking over the Pacific Ocean should have been a beautiful sight. Streaks of orange, pink, and gold painted the eastern sky, reflecting its soft light on the rippling surface of the water. But for the five passengers on the unmarked speedboat speeding away from I-Island, the dawn felt like a silent witness to the hell they had just left behind. The warm and humid morning air felt strange as it mixed with the sharp scent of smoke still rising from the ruined island in the distance, and the biting smell of sea salt mixed with the smell of ozone and burnt metal.

The silence on the boat was heavier than the rumble of any battle. Each of them was trapped in their own world, processing the storm they had just weathered in their own way.

Tatsumi sat leaning against the side of the boat, his body wrapped in a thermal blanket still shivering occasionally, not from the cold, but from an exhaustion that had seeped into his bones. His now-inactive Incursio armor felt like a dead weight on his back, a reminder of his own limits. His mind was a chaotic mosaic. His analytical earthling soul tried to piece together the fragments of information—PLF tactics, Esdeath's power, the data they had managed to steal—looking for a pattern, looking for the next step. He knew, logically, they had achieved a tremendous strategic victory. However, the echo of the hero Tatsumi from Night Raid within him felt no victory. He felt the weight of the destruction they had left behind, and especially, a sense of guilt for having used the threat of Esdeath, a monster, as a tool. Was this the path of a hero? The question kept spinning, unanswered. And on the deepest level, the instinct of the Tyrant Dragon, which had just been forced to unleash its final roar, was now sleeping tiredly, but not peacefully. It could still feel the echo of Esdeath's power out there, a reluctant acknowledgment from one apex predator to another who was now free, a fact that made the imaginary scales on his back prickle.

Not far from him, Akame sat in a perfect seiza position, even on the rocking boat. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't resting. She was centering her mind, processing the emotional storm within her. On one hand, there was immense relief. They had destroyed a key Yozakura facility. They had stopped, for now, the plans of her sworn enemy. But on the other hand, there was a greater horror. Esdeath, the ghost from her bloodiest past, was now free in her new world. And the Yozakura, her sworn enemy in this world, now clearly had the knowledge and technology to interact with their home world. Her two greatest nightmares had now merged into one terrifying reality. The path to saving Kurome felt even longer and more perilous. Her folded hands on her lap gripped the hilt of Murasame tightly, her only certainty amidst the vast uncertainty.

Leone, who had returned to her human form, leaned against the other side of the boat, staring at the foamy wake left by the engine. Her usual wild energy had now receded, replaced by a deep and honest fatigue. She examined her bruised knuckles and smiled faintly. It was the best fight of her life. She had faced elite troops, a legendary ice monster, and the Number One Hero, all in one night. Part of her felt incredibly alive. But another part, the street-hero part that was used to protecting a single city block, felt overwhelmed by the scale of this conflict. She glanced at Tatsumi and Akame, two kids who seemed to be carrying the weight of the entire world. Her "big sister" instinct kicked in strongly. This was no longer just about adventure or looking for a good fight. This was about protecting these kids, her new, strange pride.

At the stern, standing as far away from the others as possible, Endeavor was a dormant volcano. He stared at the shrinking I-Island in the distance, his burning rage having now cooled into complex embers of hatred and confusion. He had fought with his full power. He had led the heroes. He had played his role as the Number One Hero. But it all felt like a play. The real battle happened in that cavern, away from the cameras' spotlight, where he had to ally with vigilantes and a secret asset who shouldn't have been there. He had seen Esdeath's power, a power capable of matching his fire, a fact that disturbed his pride to its very core. And he had lied to the HPSC, to the government, to the entire world. He had become part of a conspiracy, a role he despised, but he knew it was necessary. He was now bound to Hawks' game, and he swore to himself that he would find out all the secrets that the winged hero was hiding.

And Hawks, who stood at the helm, felt everyone's gazes without needing to turn. He was the puppet master whose plan had succeeded in the most chaotic and unexpected way. He felt immense relief that his team was safe, but also the crushing weight of the consequences. He had succeeded in obtaining data that could bring down the entire power structure of the underworld. But to get it, he had been forced to let Esdeath, the most dangerous variable that ever existed, loose upon the world. Was it worth it? His mind was already leaping far ahead, planning ten, twenty steps in advance. How to use this data? How to track Esdeath? How to manage this fragile alliance filled with these broken individuals? The chess game had just ended, and a new, much larger and more dangerous chessboard now lay before him.

As their boat finally docked at a hidden pier beneath Hawks' main villa, the silence broke. Before anyone could get off, Endeavor stepped forward, blocking Hawks' path.

"We need to talk. Now," Endeavor growled, his blazing blue eyes staring intently.

Hawks sighed. "I know."

They both walked away from the others, to the end of the pier. "You owe me an explanation, Hawks," Endeavor said, his voice low and threatening. "Who were those two women, really? What exactly was that 'Asset E' you mentioned? And what is that boy's real role in all of this?"

Hawks knew he couldn't give the whole truth. It was too dangerous. Instead, he gave the version he had prepared. "They are independent specialists with unique skills that I hired for a mission that couldn't be handled through official channels. The blonde woman is an underworld information expert. The black-haired one is an anti-terrorism specialist. 'Asset E' was a PLF experimental subject that got out of control, a very powerful Cryokinesis Quirk user they were trying to turn into a weapon. And Tatsumi... he's the only asset we have who has been proven to be able to survive against her."

It was a carefully crafted mixture of truth and lies. Endeavor knew he wasn't getting the full picture, but he also knew the information made sense in the context of what he had seen. "Next time," he said after a moment of silence. "I want to know what I'm walking into before I step into hell." With that, he turned and shot into the air, becoming a flash of fire that disappeared over the horizon. Their ceasefire held, but the trust between them was as thin as ice.

Inside the villa's war room, exhaustion was momentarily forgotten. The four remaining members of the alliance gathered around the main console. The moment of truth had arrived. Hawks inserted the data siphon device into the server.

"Decrypting data..." he said. "It'll take hours to sort through everything, but let's take a look at some highlights."

On the main screen, folders began to appear. And their contents made their blood run cold.

A file from the Yozakura folder displayed complex transaction logs, tracking the flow of funds and assets. But the most horrifying was a list of "Asset Acquisitions" with strange codes and origins listed only as "Gate-01," "Gate-02," "Gate-03." It was undeniable proof of inter-dimensional human trafficking. Akame stared at the list, her hands clenched, wondering if Kurome's name was somewhere in it.

Another file from the Humarise folder displayed schematics for a new generation of Trigger Bombs, designed not just to erase Quirks, but to make it permanent, a weapon of Quirk genocide.

Then, Hawks opened a file from Dr. Garaki's research notes. The file was titled Project: Tyrant - Preliminary Analysis. Inside, was a cold and gruesome biological analysis of tissue samples from the Incursio armor, most likely obtained from one of the previous battles. Tatsumi felt sick, seeing his own power dissected and analyzed like an insect under a microscope.

And finally, the largest file. Asset E - Observation Logs. Page after page of data about their failure to analyze her power, notes on her mental state showing signs of consciousness even while asleep, and a final research proposal that made them all fall silent. The proposal was titled:

Phase II: Ability Replication and Consciousness Transfer.

They weren't just trying to study Esdeath. They were trying to become Esdeath.

The four of them stood in total silence, illuminated only by the light from the monitor displaying their enemy's insane plans. The battle on I-Island may have ended, but now they understood. The real war was not for control of an island or a city. This war was for the control of the very definition of power itself.

"So..." Leone whispered, her usually cheerful voice now filled with horror. "...that's what they were trying to build."