Right then...hiya. You miss me? Anyways, I am back and will be staying for good, the schedule is probably every day, so get ready.
_______________________________________________________________________
The silence was cold, unnerving.
David Shield sat stiffly in his chair, still reeling from the surreal realization: Samuel's restraints were never real.
Across from him, Samuel Abraham stood, slowly stretching his arms, a tired smile playing across his lips.
"What's going on, Samuel?" David asked quietly, voice low, trying to control the quake in his throat.
Samuel looked at his friend—his mentor—with a bitter chuckle.
"What's going on? You gave up. That's what happened. We built something revolutionary. It could've made us billions. Helped millions. And what did you do?""You locked it away because you 'couldn't trust the board.' You gave up before the fight even started."
David's eyes remained steady. "Will you stop once you have the suitcase?"
"Of course," Samuel replied. "I'm not Wolfram. I don't care about chaos or legacy. I want my cut. I want out. A villa. A beach. Done with all this sci-fi drama."
In the background, Wolfram remained disturbingly quiet, like a guest at someone else's funeral. He leaned against a console, polishing a sleek black pistol with a cloth, his mask glinting in the light.
David sighed, lowering his head. "Then... I only ask one thing. Let All Might have the booster first. After that, you can sell the data, replicate it, throw it into the ocean for all I care."
Samuel smiled faintly. "You always were too kind, Professor Shield."
He stepped forward, reaching for the silver suitcase on the lab bench.
CRACK!A sharp bang tore through the room.
Samuel staggered.
He blinked in confusion.
Looking down, he saw a spreading blotch of red across his white dress shirt. He collapsed to his knees, then the floor, gasping.
"S-Samuel!" David cried out, rushing to his fallen friend.
But Wolfram calmly holstered his pistol, as if finishing a routine transaction.
"I've never liked bromance movies," Wolfram said casually. "All that loyalty and sacrifice garbage... it's so scripted. So fake."
David knelt beside Samuel, who was barely conscious, blood seeping from a clean shot just beneath his sternum. Still breathing. Barely.
"You had a deal! You were getting your money!" David roared, eyes brimming.
Wolfram tilted his head, his voice deadpan.
"He's not dead. Just a clean middle shot. Probably cracked the sternum. Might live. Depends on how generous I'm feeling."
He picked up the suitcase with one hand, while metal tendrils rose from the floor like mechanical vines, lifting Samuel's limp body into the air as a hostage shield.
"I'm not here for you or him," Wolfram said smoothly. "I'm not even here for All Might. I'm just here because I'm a real villain. And villains don't keep their promises."
David stood up slowly, fists clenched. "You're insane."
Wolfram laughed. "No, Professor. I'm just realistic."
As they walked into the elevator, Wolfram turned and asked with a smirk behind his mask:
"Tell me, David… why do you think I showed you the cage?"
David stiffened.
"Animals go in cages," Wolfram said. "What's on floor 132 isn't just a surprise—it's a predator. A final gift from my employer. One the kids won't walk away from. I just want to watch the light leave their eyes... and maybe get a little richer in the process."
David's voice was hollow. "Why… Why do all this? The betrayal. The blood. The chaos?"
Wolfram let out a long, theatrical sigh, pressing the button for the top floor.
"Why is always such a boring question. I'm being paid. Handsomely. If All For One wins? I'll own a private country in some lawless zone. If he loses? I'm still walking away with a billion in cash and a high-tech identity scrub."
He turned to David with mock sincerity.
"Let's stop pretending. I'm a bad guy. I do bad things. Because that's what bad guys do."
David opened his mouth, fury rising...
CLACK. CLACK. CLACK.
A new sound interrupted the rising tension: footsteps—steady, casual, oblivious.
Rounding the corner was none other than Eijiro Kirishima, slightly dusty, wearing his signature crimson gear, looking around like a tourist.
He stopped as he saw the scene:– One masked man holding a bleeding scientist in midair.– Another, older man frozen in rage and grief.– A high-tech suitcase clutched tightly.
Kirishima blinked.
"Uh… hey. You guys wouldn't happen to know where the reception room is, right?"
Silence.
"I, uh, kinda got lost after punching through some metal wall…"
David blinked.
Wolfram stared.
Samuel wheezed.
Kirishima scratched his head.
"Is this not the gift shop?"
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[Auther: Man, it's been a while...so long that I've forgotten my catchphrase. Anyways, as you can see, Kirishima! And he's just a bright as always. Don't worry, this fight is new and something I wanted to try. I just looked the word count and I'm kinda scared but y'know what? I'm busting out a chapter a day, so as long as I maintain quality, I think the quantity can be dropped a bit.
Ask me anything, I do enjoy the human mind.]
