I walked slowly, each step sending a dull throb through my legs. The air felt heavy, thick with the remnants of violence, and my mind still buzzed with the aftermath of using my quirk.
The ground crunched beneath my feet, debris littering the path. I barely paid it any mind, my focus still locked on the last few minutes.
I didn't know if letting the red-haired lady go was the right choice. She'd already pledged allegiance, practically groveling at my feet before I told her to scram. Keeping her around wasn't worth the risk of dragging dead weight, but the whole situation still left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I couldn't deny the ugly satisfaction I felt when I cut down the others. Seeing them recognize me, their smug grins melting into sheer terror, felt... right. Like a balance finally tipped in my favor. I didn't feel guilt. I didn't feel regret.
Just... empty. A hollow, gnawing emptiness that seemed to stretch wider the longer I walked. It had me questioning what made me feel this way and why did I feel this way?
I've never killed anyone before—not even in my past life. But the moment I saw them, it just felt natural. Like my hands already knew the motions, like I'd done it a thousand times. Was it instinct? Was it just... me?
Why did I feel that way?
Was it because of the anger in me? Was it disgust?
And why don't I feel anything?
Is it because I categorised them as extremely minor villains who are useless on the story?
Is that how I'm weighing one's life now?
I pulled my mask down, running a hand through my hair. The wind stung against my face, cooling the sweat clinging to my skin. I kept moving, one step after the other, even though my legs felt like they were dragging through mud. I couldn't afford to stand still. Not right now.
My hands curled into fists at my sides, the phantom sensation of the weapon still prickling against my palm. That eerie feeling hadn't left yet—the faint pressure at the back of my skull, like something scratching to get out.
My head pounded dully, not quite pain but more like a pressure building up. I clenched my teeth and forced myself to breathe deeper, slower. It wasn't the first time I felt it, but it seemed stronger this time—more persistent.
'Focus.'
I couldn't let it take hold. I wasn't weak. I wasn't going to break from just this much. This was quite tiresome, I had only used few minutes and I'm agonising this much. Would I ever be able to breakthrough and hone this skill?
I took another slow breath and glanced at my hands again. They looked steady now, but I knew better. The last time this happened, I ended up blacking out for a few seconds before coming to my senses. I wasn't about to let that happen here, not with the place still crawling with villains.
The path stretched ahead, quiet except for the faint rustle of wind and distant echoes of fighting from the dome. I didn't rush. No need to.
If anything, moving too fast would just make my head throb harder. I needed to stay sharp. I needed to be ready in case something or someone came my way.
I needed to regroup with the others, see how they were holding up and whether Iida managed to bring help.
I kept walking, the tension slowly unraveling from my shoulders, even though the itch at the back of my mind remained like claws scratching at the surface. I forced down the unease and kept moving, trying to clear my head.
***
Six footsteps.
That was all it took to break the silence. Six pairs of shoes scraping against the pavement.
The faint echoes felt unnaturally loud against the eerie quiet that had settled after the initial chaos.
Momo led the group, her eyes sharp and calculating, scanning every shadow for movement. Jiro followed closely, dragging Denki along, his head lolling to the side as he giggled mindlessly.
The aftermath of maxing out his quirk still hadn't worn off, and his dumb grin was both infuriating and oddly comforting, at least he was alive.
Jiro wiped the sweat off her forehead with her free hand, letting out a frustrated huff. "Man, this is a mess. Think the others are okay?"
Momo glanced back, her brows knitting in concern. "I don't know but I believe in the class. I just hope we would get help."
Momo offered a weak smile but didn't respond, too focused on their surroundings. Her shoulders were tense, and every creak or whisper of wind made her fingers tighten around the metal staff she'd created earlier.
They had been walking for what felt like hours, though it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes since the initial attack. The air was thick with dust and the metallic scent of scorched ground. Despite the tension, their footsteps stayed quiet, like even the ground didn't want to give away their presence.
"Yeah..." Jiro muttered, eyes darting around. "I hate this. Not knowing what's happening. I just—"
A faint rumble in the distance made them pause, and Jiro tightened her grip on Denki. He let out a garbled laugh, muttering something about fried chicken.
"Great," Jiro muttered. "If another villain shows up, I'll have to use him as a human shield."
Momo gave a tight smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "We can't be too far from the entrance now. Let's just keep moving."
They took a few more cautious steps when Jiro froze, her heartbeat quickening. "Wait... do you hear that?"
Momo stopped, listening intently. Footsteps, slow and deliberate echoed from around the corner. Her muscles tensed, readying her weapon as Jiro shifted Denki behind her.
A familiar figure rounded the corner, and both girls relaxed a fraction when they recognized him.
Azaria.
His walk was unsteady, like he was moving on autopilot. His skin was paler than usual, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his gaze seemed distant, like he was only half-present. When he finally looked up, there was a flicker of recognition, and he forced a smile that had no charm.
"Azaria?" Momo hesitated to call out, although the relief was clear in her voice.
He paused, glancing at her with tired eyes before offering a faint nod. "You guys okay?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.
"We're fine," Momo replied, trying to keep her tone steady. "What about you? You look... exhausted."
Azaria just shrugged, brushing off her concern. "Just... ran into some trouble," he mumbled. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
Jiro gave him a quick once-over, noticing how he seemed to avoid looking them directly in the eye. "You sure? You look like you've been through it."
"Don't worry about it," he muttered, his gaze flicking to the side. "Only the three of you?"
"Yeah," Momo replied. "We're trying to regroup."
"What about you?" Jiro raised an eyebrow "Were you the only person transported to where you were coming from?"
"No." He lets out a shaky exhale "I was with Ida but he went to get help."
"I see," Momo echoed, "that's a good plan but that's reckless."
He gave a slight nod. "It is but given the circumstances, that's the only option possible."
Momo held her gaze at him, worry seeping into her heart. Azaria looked like he'd been through hell, but there were no visible injuries. Just that drained, almost haunted look in his eyes.
"Can you walk?" Momo asked, her voice softer.
Azaria forced a smirk, though it looked more like a grimace. "I'm good. Let's just keep moving."
Momo exchanged a quick glance with Jiro, who just gave a subtle shrug. Neither of them wanted to push it.
The group trudged forward in tense silence, the air thick with unease. Momo glanced back occasionally, her worry sharpening each time her eyes landed on Azaria's rigid form. Jiro kept quiet, though her grip on Denki remained firm as he stumbled along, still out of it.
A sudden whistling sound cut through the silence, and instinct kicked in. Momo barely had time to raise her staff before a sharp, metallic object slammed into it, knocking her backward and skidding her feet against the ground. She gritted her teeth, managing to keep her balance.
"Stay back!" she shouted, raising her staff defensively.
A thin, wiry villain with gaunt cheeks and wild eyes stepped out from behind a pile of debris, his fingers flicking small, bladed discs like they were nothing. His grin stretched too wide, showing chipped teeth.
"Found me some stragglers," he sneered, flicking another blade straight at Jiro.
Her body froze, instinct screaming at her to move but she couldn't. Holding up Denki made dodging impossible. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and for a split second, all she could do was watch the glint of metal spiraling toward her face.
A dark blur shot past her, and the next thing she knew, the blade clattered to the ground, bouncing harmlessly against the cracked pavement. Azaria stood in front of her, his forearm coated in an eerie, shadowy armor, the remnants of the impact fading into the air.
Jiro's mouth went dry. She hadn't even noticed him move. "...Thanks," she muttered, her voice almost drowned out by her own heartbeat. She didn't expect him to answer, and he didn't—his eyes were fixed on the villain ahead, sharp and unyielding.
He didn't even look back as he positioned himself between Jiro and the villain.
Jiro blinked, startled. "...Thanks," she muttered, almost unsure if it was meant to be heard. Azaria didn't respond, his gaze fixed ahead.
The villain's eyes widened briefly, but his grin only grew. "Oh? You think you're tough shit, huh?"
Azaria didn't give him a chance to make the first move. He lunged forward, his legs coated in dark armor as he closed the distance in a heartbeat.
The villain sneered, flicking one of his bladed discs toward him. Azaria deflected it with a swift upward block, the disc clattering to the ground.
The villain clicked his tongue and threw two more, aiming low at Azaria's legs. He sidestepped one and kicked the other out of the air, the clang echoing through the quiet.
His fist crashed toward the villain's face, but the guy managed to block with both arms, the sheer force of impact making him skid backward.
Azaria didn't let up, following with a sweeping kick aimed at the man's midsection. The villain twisted just enough to avoid it, retaliating with a blade slash that Azaria barely parried with his forearm.
'Break his arm.'
'Snap his ribs.'
Azaria clenched his jaw, pushing down the intrusive thoughts as he advanced again. Before the villain could recover, Momo appeared at his side, her staff held firmly.
She swung it low, aiming for the villain's legs, and he had to leap back to avoid being swept off his feet.
The villain cursed, barely dodging a follow-up jab from Azaria. Momo pressed forward, jabbing her staff at his torso, keeping him on the defensive while Azaria slipped around to flank him.
The villain tried to slash at Momo, but Azaria intercepted, slamming his armored elbow into the man's wrist, forcing him to drop the knife. Momo capitalized on the opening, swinging her staff up and cracking it against the villain's jaw. He staggered back, a nasty bruise already forming.
The villain grunted, stumbling from the impact, but quickly flicked another set of discs toward Momo. She raised her staff horizontally, blocking most of them, but one grazed her shoulder, cutting through her sleeve.
"You little punks!" the villain spat, wiping blood from his mouth.
Momo narrowed her eyes and formed a small shield on her arm. Azaria moved in again, catching the villain's wrist as he prepared to throw more blades. With a quick twist, he forced the villain's arm behind his back, but the man kicked backward, catching Azaria's shin and breaking free.
'Crush his throat.'
'Snap his fingers.'
Azaria's grip slipped, and he stumbled back, blinking as his vision blurred. He could feel the whispers clawing at his mind, almost as if his thoughts were being pulled apart.
Momo noticed him faltering and swung her staff to knock the villain's leg out from under him, but the man twisted mid-fall and flicked another disc at her face. Azaria managed to swat it out of the air just in time, earning a quick, breathless "Thanks" from Jiro, who was still stuck holding onto the dazed Denki.
Azaria didn't respond, his gaze fixed forward. He tightened his fist, pushing the darkness back down, but the whispers clawed at his skull with a vicious intensity.
'Crush him.'
'Carve into him.'
He coated his arms with armor again, but his movements were growing sluggish, and he could feel the strain biting into his muscles. The villain seemed to notice, his grin widening as he lunged at Azaria with a blade drawn.
'Make him bleed.'
'Don't be so weak'
The voices grew sharper, louder. Azaria couldn't catch his breath, and his legs felt heavy. Shadows flickered around his limbs, wavering and dissipating. His focus slipped and his reaction slowed, the blade sliced across his forearm, drawing blood.
"Azaria!" Jiro's voice broke through the haze, her tone sharp with panic.
The villain sneered and lunged forward, slashing his blade across Azaria's side. Pain erupted, spreading like fire through his torso. He stumbled back, clutching the wound as blood soaked through his clothes. The shadows flickered and faded, abandoning him as the whispering voices clawed at his thoughts, sharper and louder than before.
He couldn't force his legs to stay steady, and his vision warped around the edges. The villain took advantage of his weakened state, landing a brutal kick to his ribs that sent him sprawling across the ground. Momo rushed forward, positioning herself between Azaria and the villain, her staff held defensively.
"Azaria!" she called over her shoulder, but his breathing came out ragged and uneven. He was barely conscious, his hands trembling as he tried to push himself up. The distorted murmurs clawed at his sanity, digging deeper and deeper into his mind.
'You're weak...'
'Pathetic...'
'Just give up...'
'They'll all die because of you...'
The pain blurred with the whispers, and his thoughts crumbled under the crushing weight. Momo tightened her grip on her staff, glancing back at him, worry flashing across her face. The villain gave her a mocking grin, amused by her desperate stance.
"What's the matter?" he taunted. "Your little friend already done for? You're next!"
Momo gritted her teeth and lunged forward, swinging her staff in a wide arc. The villain blocked with his blade, sparks flying as metal clashed against metal.
She twisted her weapon and struck at his abdomen, but he sidestepped and retaliated with a quick slash. Momo parried with the staff, but the force pushed her back, and she struggled to hold her ground.
She couldn't help but glance back at Azaria, who still hadn't moved. His eyes were glazed over, lips parted as if struggling to breathe. It was like he wasn't even aware of what was happening around him.
"Azaria! Snap out of it!" Momo shouted, desperation lacing her voice.
But there was no response—just the faint rise and fall of his chest and the unsettling emptiness in his gaze. The villain pressed the advantage, slashing at her with a series of rapid strikes. Momo barely managed to deflect the blows, but one heavy kick sent her stumbling back, almost knocking her off balance.
The villain grinned, raising his blade for a finishing strike.
BANG!
The sound rang through the air, and the villain jerked, blood spraying from his shoulder as he staggered back. Momo froze, eyes wide as Snipe lowered his weapon, the barrel still smoking.
"Damn it..." the villain hissed, clutching his shoulder, but his movements faltered as he realized he was outnumbered.
Azaria's vision blurred completely, and his body felt heavier with each passing second. The voices were relentless now, a chaotic storm raging inside his mind, clawing and tearing at his sanity.
His chest tightened as if caught in a vice, and he couldn't distinguish his own thoughts from the sinister whispers that drilled into his skull.
His breathing grew ragged, each inhale scraping against his throat. He tried to push himself up one last time, his arms trembling violently, but his strength was gone. A bitter, metallic taste coated his tongue as his limbs gave out, and he collapsed back to the ground, his cheek pressing against the rough, cold dirt.
The world around him was spinning, distorted shapes moving in and out of focus. Momo's voice reached his ears, faint and muffled, like she was calling out to him from underwater. He felt her hands on his shoulder, shaking him gently, but it was impossible to respond. His eyelids grew heavier, and his muscles went slack.
"Azaria!" she called, gently shaking his shoulder, but he didn't respond. She pressed her hand against his wound, trying to stem the bleeding, her hands trembling.
Jiro and Denki finally caught up, and Jiro's eyes widened at the sight.
"He's hurt," Momo replied, her voice tight with worry. "We need to get him help—now!"
Snipe approached, keeping an eye on the wounded villain. "You kids are safe now. I'll call for backup and medical support."
Momo bit her lip, trying to keep calm despite the fear gnawing at her stomach. She looked down at Azaria's face, pale and drenched in sweat. She could do nothing but pray that help came fast.
———
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