Downtown Tokyo.
Seiki.
"So... who do you work for, Hero? Because this is far too sloppy of an operation to be the Commission."
Seiki didn't really keep tabs on the local criminals or riff-raff. Outside of his Atlas persona (which was honestly made just to pass the time, as well as give Rinka and Azula a way to let off some steam,) he didn't have a single real connection to the "criminal underworld."
Seiki couldn't care to be a criminal or a villain.
But this wannabe hero fuck, O'Clock II, killed D'Vorah.
He'd pay for that.
His backers would pay for that.
But if Seiki was being honest... if not the Commission, then he had absolutely no idea who this guy could even work for. A hero moonlighting as a villain? Killing a civilian on the spot for... what? Causing a Quirked bee of all things to abandon its host? That was not typical villain behavior. And while Seiki still didn't really have a clear picture of what was going on here... that was perfectly fine.
He had time to figure it out.
Then the speedster looked up at him and cackled.
Rinka was already turning around, growling as she grew in size, her claws tearing out of her shoes and scratching against the concrete.
Azula was sprinting moving forwards– away from him– while turning around, flames coating her fists... as if to face off against something directly behind him.
D'Vorah's bugs were flying towards him.
And last but not least, Konan was just starting to drag him forwards.
Seiki felt fingers brush his hair.
'LOAD!!!'
"Holy fucking shit," Seiki– now four years old– breathed. Immediately slumping to the floor of his old house, his tiny heart beating a mile a minute.
"It's been ages since I've done this."
By 'this,' he meant a fear-load. Where he instinctually hard-loads, sending himself as far away from the 'threat' as possible.
"So, someone appeared behind me, and tried to put their hand on my head... probably some form of mind control. Or maybe a Quirk nullifier? Or maybe even a forced-sleep Quirk, one that can bypass my auto-load mechanism," he muttered. "Or it could be something completely mundane, like a death Quirk. Something that, unironically, wouldn't be able to harm me in the slightest."
While he thought it over, he just laid there, letting his nerves cool off for a bit.
"And now to pick the angle of attack..." Seiki muttered.
SaveS. Taking him to that morning with Michiru, which while nice, was nearly 9 hours before he left.
Save1. Taking him to 4 to 5 minutes before he left.
Or Save2. Taking him to just 8 seconds before he left.
He did have Saves 3 and 4, but they were still a bit too far back for his liking... which made sense, given that they were his security saves. After all, he still wasn't sure if he trusted Nezu or not. His uncle was mostly in the clear, but the rodent was another thing entirely.
"Well here fuckin goes, I guess," Seiki grumbled. 'Load2.'
"–far too sloppy," Seiki paused for a moment, "of an operation to be the Commission."
Then he waited for a response.
And waited...
And waited...
Right on queue, he saw the speedster's eyes glisten in recognition. Reacting to someone appearing behind him.
Seiki immediately bolted forwards, whipped his head around, and grabbed two of Konan's slips off of his pants– each slip briskly taking the form of a knife. 'Save2.'
The alleyway behind him already filling up with a dense, purple fog, with no apparent source. 'Save2.'
A single hand, with a single black hole on its palm piercing through the fog. A faint red glow wafting off of it. 'Save2.'
Seiki tossed one of Konan's slips at it, Konan herself pushing it faster and further once it left his grip– hitting the offender's hand straight on the middle knuckle. An act that would slice through most fingers like butter.
But this time, the paper slip just clattered away, not so much as breaking the skin.
"Tsk," Seiki heard. "Air cannon."
Seiki was instantly flung out of the alleyway. His arms, his legs, and most of his ribs immediately snapping from the sudden concussive force. Even more of his bones breaking as he tumbled across the concrete, only to slam into the side of a car, which was sent swerving off the road as his momentum carried him into the shop behind that.
Seiki violently coughed up blood, already on death's door. Konan had tried her best to protect him, but unlike with D'Vorah, she hadn't been told about the attack beforehand.
His vision blurred as his thoughts started to fade...
'Load1.'
"Definitely not mind control," Seiki muttered, now walking towards D'Vorah with Rinka, Azula, and Konan. A few minutes before their encounter with the speedster.
Rinka raised an eyebrow. "Definitely not what–?"
'Load2.'
Seiki snapped his fingers– which was code for "RUN!"– before whispering, "split shield."
D'Vorah's backarms unfurled, carrying up the alley wall. Rinka tore through the otherside, Azula not far behind her. All while Konan converged on his location. A shield of slips forming in a V formation, pointing towards the mysterious open palm. 'Save1.'
"Air cannon."
Even with Konan diverting most of the air around him, Seiki still nearly left the ground. Thankfully his confidant was pushing him flat against the concrete, so he just barely managed to not get flung out of the alley. The same could not be said for every pebble and bit of trash that was sent flying out into the street behind them. 'Save1.'
And the very next moment.
"Spearlike bones."
Dozens of bone spikes, piercing through Konan's protective shell. Piercing through his arms, legs, hands, chest, and neck. Seiki let out a pained wheeze. 'Load3.'
"That... wasn't wind," Seiki muttered, now lying in his bed a few weeks prior. Rinka and Azula sprawled across his bed, and Konan herself snuggled up against him, sleeping in his arms.
Seiki hummed in thought.
A faint red glow. A blast of air. A volley of spiked bones. Three very different Quirk expressions... or maybe four, the purple fog being another. Seiki had originally attributed the fog to a collaborator, but you never knew with Quirks.
Was it reality warping, akin to Star & Stripe? Was it an adaptive-type, granting a different sub ability to fit each situation? Or was it somehow a different person each time?
Well... all Seiki could do was bait the still faceless figure into making more moves, revealing more of his hand.
'Load1.'
"Disperse," Seiki whispered, immediately pushing off the ground, turning around on the spot and breaking into a sprint.
"Spearlike bones." Instead of tearing through Konan's rigid shield, the bone spikes harmlessly pushed the loose slips of paper out of the way. All of them reaching just shy of Seiki himself.
Seiki made it around the corner. CRACK!
A second volley of air. This one much, much stronger.
The alley walls cracked. Every single window lining the street shattered. Then there was the dumpster at the end of the alley, which was sent flying into the road, slamming into the side of an SUV and flipping it over. Sending it into the same shop Seiki himself was flung into a few timelines earlier.
Seiki grimaced as he watched that same SUV paste a group of late night tourists.
This guy, whoever he was, had no chill.
"AHHHH!"
"OH MY GOD—!"
PSSSHK!
Then every streetlight, headlight, and phone fizzled out. An EMP blast taking out every single electronic device within five city blocks, including Seiki's phone. The bright, cozy nightlight feel immediately vanishing into a pitchblack hellscape. 'Save1.'
"H-HELP! PLEASE!"
"Razor, scout," Seiki whispered, a little over twenty slips of paper leaving his back and spreading throughout the air around him. 'Save1.'
"IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS—!"
Despite Konan's efforts, neither her nor Seiki was aware of the small blotch of purple fog materialize fifty feet up above them. Both of them unaware of the half a dozen silent, invisible sensory Quirks that flashed throughout the street. 'Save1.'
"M-Mom... dad..."
Both of them unaware of the fog appearing just a few feet in front of Seiki. 'Save1.'
"Help me..."
Unaware of the open palm just inches away from Seiki's eyes. 'Save1.'
FLASH!
White. Agony and endless white– 'LOAD!!!'
"God fucking damn," a four year old Seiki muttered, squinting his eyes. His vision still a blurry, spotty mess. The phantom stinging sensation somehow following him to the past.
"A flashbang electricity Quirk... with residual mental effects," he grumbled, his tiny little hands rubbing at his eyes in an effort to make the stinging stop. It didn't help in the slightest.
2 minutes 20 seconds later, he was finally good to go.
'Load1.'
Seiki ducked and closed his eyes.
FLASH!
White. No pain this time, but the flash had still seared through his eyelids– 'LoadH.'
"Annoying," Seiki grumbled, his eyes stinging. Less so than before, but they still stung quite a bit.
"Alright, let's see... so he's got wind blasts. Bone spikes. An EMP blast. A flashbang. Fog-based teleportation. Some sort of ominous red glow," Seiki recalled, pacing back and forth in their old living room. "He's also got some sort of way to either watch people remotely, or maybe communicate long distances– he showed up to save the speedster way to fucking quickly for it not to be a Quirk... and I still don't know who the fuck this guy is," he groaned in annoyance.
"How the fuck does someone like this just fly under the radar?!"
"Sei-chan? what's wrong–?"
'LoadH.'
"Right, mom's home," Seiki muttered. "Okay, let's change tactics..."
'Load2.'
"WAIT!!!" Seiki screeched, raising his hands in the air jerkily. Dropping both of Konan's slips as he immediately fell to his knees, trembling in abject terror.
"We s-surrender! P-Please don't kill us!"
In response, the single-holed palm stilled... before a low, dry chuckle reverberated through the air.
"And to think that I was going to take you seriously," the voice mused. Old, raspy, but laced with a presence that commanded attention. Seiki didn't miss the purple fog wrapping around O'Clock II, before vanishing him to safety... but he let it be. After all, Seiki was "giving up."
Thankfully, Rinka, Azula, and Konan understood what he was doing... D'Vorah seemed to be slightly confused, but she was still following his lead. Seiki could work with this.
Then out stepped a supervillain.
Wearing an all black tux, the figure stood at just over 7 feet tall. His face was covered in scar tissue, the entire top half of his face... gone. He was missing his nose. Missing both of his eyes. A respirator mask hooked up to his mouth, tubes hooked up to his throat, running back into the purple smoke behind him.
But despite all that...
He wasn't like Hawks, or Overhaul, or Yuki-nee. Seiki's faced down killers, psychopaths, and the lot, but this man... something about him made Seiki's skin crawl.
Like he was a cut above the rest.
Like he was a Titan.
"A group of vigilantes that I know absolutely nothing about, picking apart O'Clock II so efficiently that I was actually impressed... but I guess that's just the nature of your Quirk, hmm? You saw a way to beat him, but not me, is that it?"
'Save1.'
"So you've got an ego. That's good, I can play into that," Seiki said, mostly to himself. The villain's jaw twitched— 'Load1.'
"W-What... what the fuck is your Quirk," Seiki whispered, coming off as slightly hysterical. 'Save1.'
"Huhuhu, I wonder just what I look like through the lense of your Quirk... Atlas." Seiki stilled. "Oh yes, I recognize you. While your recruits– Deathclaw and Firestarter— are far more familiar to me, I at least know of you. I just never bothered to look into you specifically... a mistake on my part. But have you truly not heard of me?" he asked, tilting his head. 'Save1.'
"They still tell bedtime stories... something along the lines of 'don't lord your power over others, or you'll lose them in the night?'"
Seiki was still reeling from the fact that his identity was compromised... that he almost missed what the villain before him was implying.
It hit him like... like a blast of concentrated air.
'LoadH.'
"What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck," four year old Seiki yell-whispered, pacing around his old living room. "He's real? He's actually fucking real? That's..." horrifying.
Nonsensical.
Impossible.
Batshit crazy.
But... even if the idea that the Boogeyman, the Quirk Thief, was not only real, but just casually operating out of modern day Japan is an absolutely ridiculous notion... Seiki could time travel.
He could time travel with seemingly no limit.
Was permanently taking the Quirks of others any crazier than that?
Well... he had to be certain.
And while Seiki couldn't torture the guy for information– he was far too strong for that– Seiki could do the next best thing. He could just... ask.
'Load1.'
"They still tell bedtime stories... something along the lines of 'don't lord your power over others, or you'll lose them in the night?'"
'Save1.'
"You're not fucking with me? You're actually real?" Seiki asked, feigning disbelief. "You don't have an ability generation Quirk in response to hyper-specific scenarios?"
The villain hummed, thoughtful. "Oooh, that does sound interesting. Is that how your Quirk rationalizes it? It sees all of my Quirk factors as one, and then interprets an ability out of that?"
"Well, you sound like you believe your bullshit," Seiki muttered. 'Load1.'
"The power to take the Quirks of others with a single touch," Seiki stated, wonder clear in his voice.
The villain chuckled. "It truly is wonderful, isn't it?"
'Load1.'
"The power to instantly take the Quirks of anyone within your line of sight," Seiki stated, fear clear in his voice. "Thank fucking god you're blind."
The villain opened his mouth slightly... only to pause, as if he didn't know what to say. "Are you–"
'Load1.'
"The power to destroy Quirks with just a touch, taking a copy of them for yourself," Seiki stated, wonder clear in his voice.
A pause. Different from the last one.
The Thief twitched.
Seiki tensed as killing intent flooded the alleyway. Stronger than he's ever felt. It wasn't focused on him, but it flooded the alley regardless, tinged with a crazy that wasn't there moments prior.
"...No, no no no no," the Thief disagreed. "Your Quirk is wrong."
The Thief's fingers twitched wildly.
"WRONG."
FLASH!
White. Endless agony and white, immediately followed by sharp spikes piercing his skin. Normally, Seiki would've already loaded away... but the Quirk Thief's irrational response had thrown him off. Leaving him to wonder just why the Thief had responded in such a way... leaving him to not hold one of his loads on a hair-trigger.
And due to his temporary blindness... Seiki was unable to see the difference this time.
These spikes were not bones, but strips of metallic black and red.
FORCED QUIRK ACTIVATION!
"YOU LIE!!!"
SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4!
Feeling his Quirk warp against his will, Seiki panicked.
'LOAD!!!'
Four year old Seiki tumbled backwards onto the carpet, flailing around wildly... before realizing that he was safe.
The Quirk Thief couldn't get him. Not here.
"Fucking hell," he mumbled.
"You're real. You're actually fucking real– he touched my fucking Quirk," Seiki ranted to himself, recounting the absurdity of it. "And you're batshit fucking crazy. And you're also... surprisingly easy to gaslight– oh," Seiki stopped in his tracks, sitting upright as it clicked.
"He has a lie detection Quirk."
The HPSC had ingrained many, many habits into him, and one of the most prominent ones was the art of "lying with the truth." In short, it was a rudimentary way to fool lie detectors... and it had worked to disastrous effect.
When Seiki said "The power to destroy Quirks with just a touch, taking a copy of them for yourself," he wasn't thinking of the Quirk Thief. No, Seiki was just envisioning a hypothetical Quirk that functioned like that, and imagining how incredible such a Quirk would be.
Not a lie. Not a misdirection.
Seiki was simply describing a Quirk that he would find wondrous.
The Quirk Thief just so happened to take the statement at face value... not that that explained his nonsensical reaction.
"Ugh... I need a break," Seiki mumbled. Wanting to just laze in bed for a bit before resuming this 'fight.' And then Seiki did what he always did– he loaded is nap-save. The save he kept, not only for security, but for rest and relaxation.
'Load3.'
But instead of suddenly appearing in his bedroom, a sleeping Konan in his arms, Seiki was greeted with blindness.
With pain.
With metallic spikes in his arms, his legs, in his torso.
SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3!
'LOAD!!!'
"What the fuck," a four year old Seiki whispered, his face pale. "That, that's wrong," he mumbled. "I must've accidentally made a save, yeah," he concluded.
In his panic, Seiki didn't notice the small trickle of blood leaving his left nostril.
'Load4.'
SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4!
'LOAD!!!'
"No, no, nononono," a four year old Seiki rambled, blood dripping out of both of his nostrils.
'Load1!'
SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2!
'Load2!'
SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3!
'Load3!'
SAVE4! SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4!
'Load4!'
SAVE1! SAVE2! SAVE3! SAVE4! SAVE1!
'LOAD1! LOAD2! LOAD3! LOAD4! LOAD1! LOAD2! LOAD3! LOAD4! LOAD1! LOAD2! LOAD3! LOAD4–!'
'LOAD!!!'
A four year old Seiki stumbled backwards, blood exploding out of his eyes, nose, and ears. Staining both the carpet and his shirt. His head pounding, his thoughts muddling as he tripped over himself, falling to the floor. Seiki had over used his Quirk, far more than he ever had before.
He was about to pass out.
And in that haze, in the back of his mind... Seiki realized something.
Saves 1 through 4 were unviable.
So if he were to pass out and wake up here... SaveS would re-activate. Leaving him with only two viable saves, both of them seven years in the past.
He'd lose everything.
His mind already taxed to its limits, he strained himself even further, forcing his Quirk to activate one more time.
'LoadS...!'
Seiki felt his mattress beneath him, Michiru on top of him. Blood immediately exploding out of his eyes, nose, and ears.
He blacked out.
*
*
*