Downtown Tokyo.
D'Vorah.
First, they all went out to the mall. Konan, Rinka, Azula, herself, and Seiki, closely followed by Souka and Michiru. They were gathering quite a bit of attention– after all, a group consisting of one pre-teen male, and six adult women? It definitely painted quite the interesting picture.
They spent a few hours spent shopping, chatting, and whatnot.
D'Vorah didn't speak all that much, but she still listened. Azula's crass jokes, Rinka's rough demeanor, Konan's quiet hums of agreement... Seiki's quips...
It was... pleasant.
Then they went out for barbecue, before spending a few more hours at the mall...
And then they ended the day with karaoke.
Konan, Rinka, Azula, Souka, Michiru, and Seiki, all in one room.
D'Vorah will give them some credit– they made it a good half hour before the tension in the room grew to this point. But now they were all leering at each other so hard that she wouldn't be surprised if one of them popped a blood vessel... and D'Vorah couldn't help but notice that Seiki wasn't giving her that same leer.
"Alright, I think I'll step out for a bit," she said, making her way out of the room. Because even if she had a Quirk suited towards reconnaissance, she was no voyeur. "I'll be back in an hour or two."
"Oh... okay," Seiki said sheepishly.
It wasn't trust that had led to this moment. Nor was it honesty. No... if anything, it was a shared distrust that led to her following Seiki Yamazaki.
The world had not been kind to D'Vorah.
She was a first generation Quirk user. Born to two Quirkless parents.
Now, in this day and age... that made her lucky. During the Dawn of Quirks, her appearance would've gotten her lynched, or maybe just outright killed. "It was better to have a Quirk then not," was something that she's heard countless times.
So yeah, it definitely could have been worse.
But her parents... they didn't love her. She wasn't beaten, or starved or anything like that... but she wasn't hugged. She wasn't coddled. She wasn't raised. To them, she wasn't even their child. D'Vorah was nothing more than an obligation. And the looks that they gave her... her own parents had looked at her like she was an affront to nature. Her own parents!
School was no different. The same looks, the same distance.
And the very day she turned 18, she was thrown out onto the streets.
Going from shelter to shelter, she got those same looks... but now, now they were looking at her like she had failed. Like she was the reason her life had fallen apart. Not the people who had shunned her every step of the way.
D'Vorah had learned not to trust anyone. She was... in all honesty, she had been really close to losing it. And it certainly should've taken more than just two words for her to trust anyone else ever again.
"Help me? HELP ME? And why should I believe you?! What could I ever offer a pretty boy like you? I'm hideous. Useless. Gross. Disgusting. There is nothing–!"
"You're beautiful."
D'Vorah [img]
A lie. That's what it was.
She was bald. She was covered in sickly yellow and black chitin. She had teeth growing out of her face, spikes growing out of her back. She was hideous.
But...
Even if Seiki Yamazaki had lied, there was no disgust in that gaze of his. No scorn. No, if anything... there was understanding. There circumstances couldn't've been more different, but D'Vorah could tell. He was someone who had also been taken advantage of. Someone who knew what it was like. That same distrust she had for the government, for heroes, and for people in general... he had it too.
That's why he was recruiting her off all people. She had no one to betray him to, which was, unironically, why she found herself able to trust him.
And given what little she knew about his Quirk, D'Vorah could only guess what horrid futures he might've seen to make Seiki as cautious as he was.
So even if he didn't find her attractive, he had her loyalty.
A small smile graced her lips.
Then she felt it.
Some of the bugs underneath her skin– the wasps, the hornets, and the bees– buzzed violently, as if there was something calling out to them. Calling out to her.
This marked the fifth time that this had happened, but all of those other times, she had been shadowing Narumi. And the very idea of abandoning Seiki's mother just to satiate her Quirk's interest made her skin crawl.
But now... D'Vorah wasn't doing anything of importance.
She let a few of her bees into the air, and then followed them out of the mall. Down the street. Towards a deserted alleyway.
Towards a teenager girl with light brown hair and an eyepatch.
Towards the source.
Kuin Hachisuka [img]
"Hey lady," the source said, wearing a sly smile. D'Vorah was idly reminded of a telemarketer. "Do you think I could interest you... y-you... a-aaHK!" Then she started to convulse, before collapsing to the ground. Then thousands of bees converged on the source's body... bees that weren't hers.
The girl's eyepatch shuffled. A queen bee pushing out her skull.
D'Vorah's breath hitched.
It was one of those things that you knew existed, but never really thought about. It was rare, but animals could have Quirks too. There were only a couple thousand– so you could go your whole life without running into a single one, but they were there.
"A bug... with a Quirk," D'Vorah breathed.
It flew towards her.
But instead of inserting itself in her eye... D'Vorah's pores stretched wide, her skin opening up to accept the Queen Bee as one of her own. Then it entered her, connect to her.
She gasped.
'This...'
"Did you do this?" D'Vorah snapped back into focus, turning to see... a guy. Black hair, yellow eyes, he was mostly unassuming... if you ignored the scratch across his face. But there was something else that just felt off about him. "Ya'know, I don't like surprises. I really don't. I've already got to worry about the old man, the Crawler... but you come out of nowhere, and kill one of mine," the man sighed loudly, as if it was a minor inconvenience. "And now I have to go and find the new host. Again. Which means more work for me."
The man's eyes narrowed, and then his killing intent flared. Strong, but not as strong as Seiki's.
"You'll die for that."
Her pores opened wide, ready to flood the alleyway with her bugs–!
Then he vanished from her view. No, he was behind her–!
There was a violent stab of pain. Something inside her lower back... his hand.
Then there was an explosion... inside of her.
Then there was nothing.
*
20 Minutes Earlier.
Konan.
Souka and Michiru were on there knees, staring at Seiki's crotch in want. Rinka was on his left, biting her lip as she sniffed the air, as she sniffed Seiki. Azula on his right, both of her hands slipped underneath her clothes– one furiously slicking in and out of her pussy, the other playing with her nipple.
Konan loved this part. The anticipation of what was to come, when their nervousness bled into desire and pleasure–! Both of Seiki's irises twirled.
Then he trembled, both of his fists clenching. Digging into the couch cushions so hard he nearly tore through them.
"Konan, Rinka, Azula. We have a mission." Seiki he looked down at his maids. "Souka, Michiru... take the SUV back to the house. We'll get home on our own."
They all quickly got dressed and presentable, the tension rising with the continued silence.
Then they left the karaoke place, splitting off from the maids... "Konan, guide us to D'Vorah." And now they were tracking down D'Vorah. Thankfully, she had a slip of herself tucked into D'Vorah's clothes, something Seiki most likely already knew about.
"What's the mission, boss?" Rinka eventually asked.
Seiki let out a breath. "In the next twenty minutes, D'Vorah... accepts a bee with a Quirk, into her body? Something like that? Then the supposed "owner" of the bee confronts D'Vorah and kills her," he said, his voice laced with anger. "Our perp has black hair, yellow eyes. Looks mostly unassuming. But his Quirk grants them superspeed and... maybe explosions. He might've just placed an explosive on her, but the end result is the same."
They all took that in... but something was off. Yes, the sun had already set... but there were still people around. And Seiki-dono was talking loud enough that they could be overheard.
"Our mission is to interrogate him, find out everything about him. Then I go back in time and use that information to take care of him in a discreet manner."
Silence.
"Ah," Rinka said, mostly to herself. "That makes too much fuckin sense."
"Time-travel? Really?" Azula asked, bewildered.
"Yes. That's why I don't care if any of these fucks over hear us, none of this will happen," Seiki explained, gesturing at the people walking past them. A few of them started to stare, and another even scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes at Seiki-dono's words. But Konan had already taken his words as the truth. "At any moment, I can send my consciousness back into a previous version of myself. Literally rewinding the clock. I can do this without limit. And even if someone were to knock me out, or even kill me, then I'm just sent back in time automatically."
Not precognition, but time travel. Those horrid futures that he mentioned... they weren't just visions to him.
Konan also noticed a few of them pulling out their phones, whether it was to film, or maybe even call a hero hotline... but nothing more than that. Konan still let a few paper slips fly into the air, keeping track of everyone paying too much attention to them.
"You're immortal," Azula breathed. "You're actually immortal."
"And every time I tell you, it gets your nipples hard," Seiki scoffed, but Konan could hear both the fondness and amusement in his voice.
They walked in silence for a bit.
"Wait, so during our spars... we're actually hitting you over and over, but then you just go back to before we land a hit, then dodge with that new knowledge?" Rinka asked.
"Pretty much. You've even knocked me out a few times, and you've gotten quite close to killing me. I don't think you have though."
"Huh..." Rinka muttered. "And you've told all of us this before."
"Yes. I... I always explain it. Every death run, every high-stakes mission, I explain it. Because it'd be cruel of me not to. And I... I don't like it when you lose faith in me. You trust my Quirk not to fail, so when it does... it hurts to see. That sudden bout of worry, desperation... none of you ever remember it, but I do..." he mumbled. "I hate it."
"We're now a single block away. D'Vorah's just met up with a girl with an eyepatch... the current host of the bee?" Konan asked. Seiki nodded.
"Yeah. Now lets go kill a speedster."
Konan steeled herself.
Precog or not, time-traveler or not, she'd follow Seiki-dono to the very end.
*
20 Seconds Later.
Number Six.
Six [img]
"A distress call? You better fucking not be dead..." Rokuro Nomura... no, Number Six grumbled as he bolted out of the warehouse. As he bolted down street after street. A handful of minutes for him, and just a couple of seconds for everyone else.
Then he came across the alleyway.
Number Six let out a scoff, leisurely walking towards the mutant chick standing just a few feet away from the current host. He could already tell that he has nothing to worry about from her– the mutant wasn't so much as twitching... which made perfect sense to him. With Overclock active, not even bullets moved more than a snail's pace.
But that didn't change the fact that the host was dead, the bees already dispersing into the air. Annoying.
Well... he'd probably just get her attention, make a quip or two, and then kill her. Despite his overall annoyance at the situation, he couldn't help but grin as he imagined it play out.
Then he tripped.
Or more accurately, he lost his right foot, just above the ankle.
Because even if he was walking at a leisurely pace... Six's personal time was sped up to the point that each step moved his foot at over 800 mph. And when you were moving that fast into something as thin as paper and stronger than steel, the same look and texture as the concrete alleyway below it, it was a surefire way to delimb yourself.
"AGGGH!!" Six hollered incoherently, the sudden burst of pain– as well as the overwhelming anger at being caught off-guard– getting to him. And for just a moment, he lost his hold on Overclock.
A grave mistake.
Four more sheets of steel slammed into him. One at each wrist, one at his left ankle, and one more lodged in his throat.
Six reactivated Overclock, slowing the world around him to a stand still. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" he screeched, or at least tried to. It mostly came out as an angry gargle. Frantically looking around, Six searched for his attacker... and found nothing. Still in agony, Six pushed his regeneration, focusing it on his right hand– and as soon as he had three fingers formed, he ripped the slip out of his throat and tossed it to the side. Then he pushed himself off the ground with his stumps, crawling out of the alleyway, back the way he came... but he was already running out of air. One of the biggest drawbacks to Overclock.
The blood pouring out of his still mangled throat not really helping matters.
They... they knew his Quirks. They knew his weaknesses. They knew just when to attack.
They knew everything about him.
And while he still couldn't see his opponent, he could see their Quirk.
Hundreds of dark grey slips filled the air, the same slips that had butchered him... all of them brought to a stop with the power of Overclock. But... but he could see two walls of slips slowly forming at the end of each alleyway, another protective layer protecting the mutant chick.
Which meant they were working together.
And he was almost out of air...
He tore off his left arm, charged it, and then tossed it at the mutant chick. The moment it exploded, he let go of Overclock, gasping for air as he pushed his regen into his throat and feet. He hoped that it would buy him enough time–!
CRUNCH!
A woman with brown hair, golden eyes and crazed smile slammed into his gut, feet first... but it didn't really hurt all that much. All it had done was broken one of his ribs, and sprained one of her ankles. Something that got a chuckle out of Six. "Weak," he rasped.
...But then her feet started to sizzle. She had just fallen five stories... 60 feet... and all of that kinetic force was immediately converted into heat.
You could never be too careful in the world of Quirks.
"Immolation," she growled.
Six let out a cry as heat poured into his chest, into his lungs. Charring his insides. It was... it was different then other fire Quirks. Not only was it concentrated on him, it was somehow directed straight into him. It didn't behave like normal fire. No... it burned with a single purpose– to tax his regeneration, to rob him of his air.
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't think!
Then the slips converged on him, holding his mangled, charred body firmly in place.
But he still wasn't dead. As long as his brain was still intact, as long as his head was attached to his body, then his regeneration would keep him alive...!
Then two massive, clawed hands tore off what was left of his arms and legs.
"ARRRGGGH!" he hollered, violently shaking against his restraints. "DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??!?!?!"
"Well, you tried to kill one of ours," a boy replied. "So of course we'd come at you with full force. Locust, recluses. Empty them."
"E-Empty them?" the mutant chick asked, sounding uncertain... but that didn't stop her from activating her Quirk, hundreds of holes opening up all over her body. Hundreds of spiders crawling out of her, crawling towards him. Covering him. All of them biting him one after the other. All of them emptying their venom sacks into his torso, his neck, into every bit of exposed skin.
Six writhed in agony.
"What a fascinating Quirk you have," the boy muttered. "At it's core, your Quirk is super-speed, but you can focus it into regeneration... or even self-destruction. Blowing up your hands inside of others is certainly a creative use of your power. Strong enough to make you a top ten Pro... and wow, what a hero you already are. The High-Speed Hero: O'Clock II," the boy said, having figured out his identity.
"And while poison doesn't really work that well on you... brown recluses, their venom tears apart cell walls. It's less like poison, and more like an acid that slowly melts through your flesh... resulting in a constant stream of injuries that your regeneration needs to focus on first," the boy explained. "Such a neat Quirk, isn't it? With a single glance, I can pick your Quirk apart. See every weakness, every exploit... and then I strike. Dismantling you in seconds. But when it comes to extracting traditional information, like your backers, I have to result to more... unsavory methods."
Number Six looked up at his opponents.
The boy, the mastermind behind this operation. The fire Quirk user, who burned him alive. The wolf girl mutant, who tore off his limbs. And the bug girl mutant, who had killed the current host, who had lured him into this trap. An elite strike team formed solely to take him out.
Number Six was going to kill them all.
The boy stepped on his slowly regenerating fingers. Six screeched in both pain and fury.
"So... who do you work for, Hero? Because this is far too sloppy of an operation to be the Commission."
But unbeknownst to the boy... Six had not one Quirk, but six.
Overclock, Regeneration, Self-Detonation, Bombify, Radio Waves... and one more, one that not even Number Six himself knew about. Vessel.
Six was just a prototype for the Nomu, for Shigaraki. And in the same way that Tomura Shigaraki's Quirk, Decay, was a modified version of Overhaul... Vessel was a modified version of All For One. Stripping away the parts that let him give and take Quirks, only leaving behind the part that let him properly hold them. Hence, Vessel.
But this had another purpose. It let AFO check in on his little prototype, looking through Six's eyes and ears whenever he wanted to.
Because even if his current injuries wouldn't let him personally use it, All For One would never let the original Overclock Quirk– which they had not yet managed to clone– out of his sight.
So Six's eyes widened in surprise when purple fog abruptly appeared behind his current opponents. Quickly followed by a pale hand with a single, black hole in its palm. Already reaching out, just inches away from the back of the boy's head.
Six cackled.
'You flew too close to the sun, hero...!!!'
*
*
*