"That should suffice for now. How do you feel, Gabriel?" Moira's voice, devoid of any genuine warmth, cut through the buzzing in my head.
"Like absolute shit, Moira," I replied, my voice a low, gravelly growl, as I pushed myself up from the medical gurney. The various tubes and wires that had been connected to my body had already been disconnected, but the agonizing sensation of their recent presence still coursed through my system, causing involuntary muscle spasms and a deep, gnawing ache. "Couldn't you at least give me some damn anesthesia when you put me through this torturous process?"
"I could, Gabriel, but I must remind you that your body unequivocally rejects most chemical compounds, including hypnotics and sedatives," Moira replied, her gaze fixed on me with a disturbing, almost possessive intensity, as if I were her favorite, most intricate toy. It was a truth I knew, a truth that was not far from reality. "The only other alternative would be to temporarily shut down your brain entirely, but I regret to inform you that I cannot guarantee your survival, or the successful restoration of your consciousness, if we were to attempt such a precarious procedure."
Groaning audibly at Moira's smug, infuriating smirk, I rubbed my neck, feeling the lingering stiffness and contemplating the extent of the damage I had sustained during the last mission. "That kid certainly hits with surprising force, especially considering he looked like such a pathetic wimp, a weakling. His strength is deceptive."
"You are referring to Izuku Midoriya, a child with a rather late Quirk awakening. Said Quirk appears to grant him overwhelming, destructive strength in exchange for severely damaging and breaking his own body," A playful, annoyingly cheerful voice interjected suddenly. Sombra. She was seated at a large, futuristic desk, surrounded by hundreds of rapidly changing holographic screens, her fingers dancing across a keyboard with incredible speed. "Now, the truly interesting thing is that in his meticulously detailed medical records, he does not possess the normal deformities typically observed in individuals with powerful Quirks. Instead, his genetic makeup is consistent with people without Quirks. He currently resides alone with his mother in Musutafu, and in his childhood—"
"I don't need to know the entire, excruciatingly detailed history of his insignificant life, or how long his damn dick is, Sombra," I growled, cutting her off abruptly, my voice laced with venom, reacting with visceral annoyance to the avalanche of utterly unnecessary information provided by my newest, and most irritating, companion. "So, I suggest you shut your mouth, or I will shut it for you permanently."
"I love you too, sweetheart!" The infuriating brunette girl giggled, blowing a mocking kiss in my direction, her eyes twinkling with amusement at my blatant irritation.
"I hate this woman beyond measure..." I muttered under my breath, my voice dripping with disdain, as I finally stood up from the gurney. I activated my Quirk, transforming my body into a swirling, jet-black mist before instantaneously reforming back into my previous state, now fully clad in my dark, tactical suit. "Why are they always so incredibly annoying... it's a curse."
"Reaper, we have a new target, a new mission," Moira informed, her voice cutting through my grumbling, devoid of any emotional inflection. "This time, it is not an assassination. Our objective is an information theft operation located on I-Island. Apparently, our worldwide wanted hacker, Sombra, could not penetrate their advanced defenses alone."
"Hey! Hacking into the living quarters of the world's greatest geniuses and their heavily protected databases isn't as effortlessly simple as you think, Moira!" Sombra exclaimed, looking at Moira with her arms crossed defensively, feigning indignation. "You should be incredibly thankful that I even deigned to join your pathetic little organization in the first place!"
"Reaper, I need you to meticulously look up information on a Project specifically named 'ARCANGEL.' It is a collaborative effort involving Winston Oxton, David Shield, and Angela Ziegler, and apparently, it is somehow intricately related to Lena Oxton's unique Quirk," Moira continued, her gaze fixed on her notes, swiftly reading various technical details and completely ignoring Sombra's dramatic protests. "Also, apparently, David Shield is currently working on a very important, highly classified secret project, one in which unusually large amounts of funds have been discreetly moved. If you can possibly find out what this secret project is about, I want as much information as humanly possible, understood?"
'That girl...' The chilling memory was still vividly fresh in my mind, a persistent ghost.
With a simple, almost imperceptible wave of her hand, everything around me had begun to spontaneously shatter, similar to how fragile glass shatters into countless fragments.
She had forcibly taken me back in time... years before my current association with Talon, back to a period when I was merely a simple, mercenary assassin, working for a shitty organization, working for shitty people, doing undeniably shitty things for meager pay.
The world echoed loudly with unseen forces before shattering completely, with me still trapped inside its temporal collapse.
And I had been dragged back to that horrifying day where my entire world irrevocably collapsed, the day where I irrevocably lost absolutely everything.
I didn't understand, it was utterly illogical to him, it defied all reason. He didn't do anything wrong, he didn't do anything inherently bad, he had just diligently followed his predetermined role in the grand, chaotic course of things, as he was instructed.
So why? WHY?!
"Don't worry, Gabriel, you just have to protect the girl for the rest of the day; it's not hard, Gabriel."
"Could Mr. Jack Morrison come and give his verdict, please?"
"You are found... GUILTY!"
The anger, the hatred, the helplessness.
But most of all, the profound, agonizing betrayal of a friend whom you had once considered a brother, someone who was your pillar of light in your world, a world otherwise surrounded by suffocating darkness and unrelenting cruelty.
And that very same light that you had admired with such passion, such unwavering devotion, was what ultimately led you to your catastrophic downfall, what blinded you from its insidious darkness, and what tragically dragged you to your bitter end.
That day, Gabriel Reyes died pathetically in a prison cell, consumed by the raging flames of anger that slowly, inexorably, transformed into cold, black ashes of pure, unadulterated hatred.
The ashes gathered, coalesced, and reformed, giving way to an insatiable thirst for blood. The taste of blood attracted Death itself, and Death, in its chilling benevolence, brought him a new Awakening.
"Understood, Moira."
And a new Awakening gave him a new Reborn....
Class 1-A was currently seated quietly, an unusual stillness pervading the classroom, as they patiently waited for their homeroom teacher to arrive. A collective air of worry hung over them, as they had not been given any information about whether they would continue to be instructed by Aizawa, or if they would be assigned a temporary substitute teacher until he fully recovered from his extensive injuries sustained at the USJ incident.
While most students at U.A. would likely think twice, or even thrice, before willingly choosing Aizawa as their teacher, Class 1-A, despite his notoriously unfriendly and perpetually tired demeanor, had come to admire him as one of their steadfast pillars of support. His gruff exterior hid a deep dedication to their development.
Lena, for her part, was lying slumped on her desk, her face buried in her arms, a posture that to casual observers would suggest she was merely sleeping. However, beneath the surface of her feigned slumber, her mind was actively pondering, meticulously outlining her plans for the immediate future.
Her father was preparing to depart for I-Island for a few weeks, which would leave her home alone for the very first time in her life. While Lena was immensely glad that her father trusted her enough to leave her unsupervised, she harbored a significant lack of trust in herself.
Being home alone for such an extended period was, for Lena, basically an open invitation for a panic attack to strike at any given moment, a terrifying recurrence of her past trauma. The solitude, while sometimes welcome, also carried the chilling echo of her capsule confinement.
'On the other hand, this unexpected solitude certainly presents a golden opportunity for me to discreetly experiment with my evolving Energy... although, to be safe, I should probably wait for Dad to come back to supervise, just to avoid any unforeseen accidents or catastrophic temporal anomalies...' she mused, weighing the risks against the compelling urge to explore her powers.
Suddenly, the large, imposing classroom door swung open with a slow, deliberate creak, revealing... a mummy?
"Good morning, Class 1-A," the mummy replied with a remarkable simplicity in his voice, his muffled tone barely audible through the layers of bandages.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Ashido Mina exclaimed, her voice shrill with disbelief, as she pointed an accusing finger directly at the bandaged figure. "WRONG COUNTRY, BUDDY! HALLOWEEN ALREADY HAPPENED!"
"Oi, oi, Halloween already happened, you know? You're a bit late for the trick-or-treating," Kirishima Eijiro said, looking at the bandaged guest with a mixture of confusion and mild amusement, trying to make sense of the bizarre sight.
"Shut up, all of you..." the mummy replied, his voice laced with palpable annoyance, a low, weary growl that immediately dispelled any lingering doubts about his identity. It was at that precise moment that the students, with a collective jolt of realization, understood: it was their strict, perpetually tired teacher, Aizawa Shota.
"Professor! Are you all right, sir?" Tenya Iida asked, his voice filled with genuine concern for his professor's health, yet equally impressed by Aizawa's unwavering professionalism. To see him, even mortally wounded, still coming to teach them, was a testament to his dedication.
"What do you think, Iida? Do I look 'all right' to you?" Aizawa retorted, his voice dry and sarcastic, as he made his way to the podium in front of the class, his bandaged form moving with a surprising, albeit weary, grace.
"Uhhhh..." the class collectively mumbled, an awkward silence filling the room as they struggled to find an appropriate response to their teacher's blunt, unvarnished honesty.
Looking at his entire class with a tired, yet discerning look on his face, Aizawa could only think that they had recovered surprisingly quickly from the traumatic USJ incident. Well, he observed, some didn't seem as overtly active or boisterous as before, a subtle shift in their demeanor, but it was still a remarkably good reaction compared to the profound emotional distress and psychological trauma he had fully expected.
'I guess they are mentally stronger than they look... perhaps even more resilient than I gave them credit for,' Aizawa thought, his gaze sweeping over his entire class carefully, scrutinizing each student. He noted that perhaps the most affected among them were Koda Koji and Kaminari Denki, but even their reactions, while visible, were nothing serious, nothing that couldn't be overcome with time and proper guidance.
"They're not that relaxed, students... the battle is far from over; in fact, it's just about to begin," Aizawa exclaimed harshly and intensely, his voice cutting through the lingering classroom chatter. His words made the hair on the back of every single student's neck stand on end, a sudden jolt of apprehension. Lena, who had snapped out of her pensive state, looked at Aizawa with an annoyed expression, silently praying that this wasn't another grueling, unexpected test. "The U.A. Sports Festival is just around the corner, Class 1-A! Prepare yourselves!"
That sudden, electrifying announcement sent the entire room into excited shouts and cheers, a wave of collective elation washing over them. It simultaneously reinforced each student's personal determination, igniting a fierce competitive spirit within them.
"FINALLY SOMETHING NORMAL AND EXCITING!"
"WOOOW! THIS IS GONNA BE AMAZING!"
"I WILL BE THE UNDISPUTED WINNER, JUST YOU WAIT!"
After a few minutes, the class gradually calmed down again, the excited chatter slowly subsiding as they collectively felt their teacher's palpable irritation growing, a silent warning for them to regain their composure.
"Professor, I have a question, if I may," Momo Yaoyorozu said, raising her hand politely, her voice calm and articulate amidst the lingering excitement. Aizawa simply nodded curtly, granting her permission to speak. "Couldn't this massive public event present a perfect, irresistible opportunity for the villains, given the recent USJ incident?"
This logical, yet chilling, possibility instantly sent a fresh wave of fear through the entire class once more. They certainly did not want to face the villains again anytime soon, the trauma of the USJ still fresh in their minds.
"Do not worry yourselves unnecessarily about that, students. U.A. will reinforce its security protocols by at least five times the normal level for the Sports Festival. They will double the number of police patrols around the stadium, plus many additional Professional Heroes have been specifically hired to handle any unforeseen situation that may potentially arise during the Festival itself," Aizawa spoke, his voice calm and reassuring, systematically clearing his students' doubts and allowing them to breathe a collective sigh of relief. "You shouldn't worry about that aspect. What you should worry about for now is your individual futures. The Festival is a truly great, unprecedented opportunity for each and every one of you."
In that, Aizawa was unequivocally right. This was a golden opportunity for everyone in Class 1-A. Professional Heroes from all over the country, and perhaps even from around the world, would be watching, evaluating them, and ultimately seeking to recruit them for their Hero Agencies. Simply being recruited by a recognized professional would provide an immense advantage, not only for their future connections and career paths but also, depending on the chosen Professional, could significantly help them to grow and refine their unique Hero skills.
In addition, actively participating in the festival, regardless of their final ranking, would undoubtedly provide them with a small, yet dedicated, fan base with which to build the crucial foundation of their future careers and public fame. It was an invaluable stepping stone.
"This is a golden opportunity that you only get once a year, meaning, effectively, only three times in your entire academic lifetime at U.A. Do not miss it. You have precisely two weeks off, starting now, to meticulously prepare yourselves," Aizawa concluded, his gaze sweeping across the room, a final, motivating challenge.
"So the festival is indeed coming, then..." Momo muttered quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, but just loud enough for Lena, Kyoka, and Toru to clearly hear her words.
They were currently seated at their dining table, the lunch hour stretching into a tense, palpable silence. The tension in the atmosphere was so thick, so suffocating, that people around them, merely by looking at their group, felt a subtle sense of fear or unease. The weight of the upcoming competition, and its implications, settled heavily upon them.
"Pff... HAHAHA!" Lena and Toru suddenly burst into loud, uninhibited laughter, breaking the oppressive silence. Kyoka and Momo just looked at them with a collective frown, bewildered by their seemingly inappropriate amusement.
"Hey, don't laugh, you two! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for us, a chance to make our mark!" Momo said, her brow furrowed in a deep frown, clearly annoyed by how carefree and dismissive her friends appeared to be.
"Wow, calm down, Momo; I'm sure some Professional Hero will definitely want you as a partner... for more than one reason, actually," Lena said, her voice filled with amusement, gently attempting to calm Momo down, muttering that last, subtle part to herself, almost inaudibly.
Momo was, after all, a Yaoyorozu, a member of one of the richest, most influential families in the entire country. There was simply no way that some greedy, ambitious Hero wouldn't want to recruit her, not just for her immense talent, but also to attach himself to her like a leech, seeking to siphon some of her family's vast wealth or to drastically increase his own fame through association.
Another reason, one Lena reluctantly acknowledged, was the exceptionally modelesque body that Momo possessed. Lena had to admit, without a shred of jealousy, that while she herself also possessed a model figure, it was pretty obvious that Momo easily outclassed all the other girls in the class in terms of her physical attributes.
And the last, arguably most significant, reason was that Momo's Creation Quirk was simply too powerful and versatile for any Hero to ignore. She literally possessed the capacity to completely break the country's economy if she wanted to, creating anything she desired from her lipids.
Literally, Momo was a walking, talking golden ticket to fame and fortune.
"?" Momo didn't quite understand what Lena was subtly implying, her innocent mind missing the subtext, so she simply dismissed it as another one of Lena's strange, enigmatic antics. "Anyway, we must make a concentrated effort! I propose we train at my house since there is more than enough space, and it has all the necessary, state-of-the-art equipment to train effectively!"
"Well, I don't think that's a bad idea at all, Momo, but I was going to train with Lena this week, just the two of us," Kyoka replied, giving Momo a somewhat apologetic look, before she was abruptly interrupted by Lena.
"I think it would be incredibly good to go to Momo's house; I seriously don't think any conventional gym could possibly match the sheer quality and variety of equipment she has at her house," Lena said, her mind already reflecting internally on the benefits. 'I'll have to meticulously manage my time, balancing training my physical body with discreetly experimenting and understanding my evolving Energy, all without alerting Dad.'
Kyoka raised an eyebrow at Lena's sudden, unexpected change of heart, a flicker of suspicion in her gaze, but she wisely chose not to ask about it. "In that case, I'm in too, then."
"Same!" Toru exclaimed enthusiastically, raising her invisible hands in the air. This was a perfect opportunity for her to practice and refine her Quirk, perhaps even discovering new applications. Besides, Momo knew a lot of things, surely she could give her some brilliant ideas on how to use her Quirk more effectively, right?
"Okay, then! Tomorrow, we'll officially start practicing. I'm going to create a group chat just for us, and then I'll pass you all the necessary information about everything, understood?" Momo said, taking charge, a confident smile on her face.
"""Understood!"""" The three girls replied in unison, their voices filled with anticipation.