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MHA159- So It Begins...
🕑 Added 2025-07-01 20:16:44 +0000 UTCIt landed like a rock through glass. People blinked. A few coughed. Someone near the back snorted and covered it with a fake sneeze. Kaminari let out a choked “yo” that sounded part-horrified, part-impressed. Midnight looked mildly amused, but that was probably her default setting. Perfect. Shock and awe without the PowerPoint.
“Any questions now?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
Bakugo cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, when do we start kicking teeth in?”
Mina elbowed him. “Try not to jump the gun.”
“You wanna wait until someone’s bleeding?”
“I wanna know what we’re up against first, Boom Boom.”
Shoji stepped forward, calm as ever. “Do we know how many?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. Minimum four, maybe more. One of them’s a heavy hitter. The rest are support. Think mini-boss squad with one raid boss leading.”
Yaoyorozu spoke up. “Then we need to plan defenses. Coordinate patrols. Assign units.”
She was already pulling a folded map from her bag, spreading it across a crate.
“Already on it,” I said. “Yaoyorozu, Hatsume... you two are tech and terrain. I want traps, fallback barriers, decoys, whatever you can squeeze out of this island. If it makes a villain trip or scream, I want it built. Hatsume, you get energy, Momo prints your toys.”
Hatsume already had a wrench in her hand. “Can I make it explode?”
“Only if it can rebuild itself.”
“Deal.”
Momo gave her a side-eye but nodded. “I will set up a production loop. But I need calorie bars, ration packs, and sugar bombs.”
I scanned the room, picked the next block. “Sato, you’re on kitchen command. Drag locals in. Mom, help him. Yaoyorozu’s going to burn through calories printing traps and tools. Keep her upright.”
“Yes, chef,” he muttered, already moving.
“Mom gets what she needs, and then some. She handles field rations, glucose, backup snacks. If Momo crashes, we all eat sand.”
“On it,” She said, already jotting down measurements on a napkin.
"Kaminari powers jammers, sensors, and fuel whatever Hatsume glues together.”
Kaminari gave a quick thumbs up. “If it needs juice, I am the socket.”
“Kirishima, Tetsutetsu, Izuku. You are with me on the north cliff. That choke point is narrow, elevated, and easy to trap. We hold that line first. If the enemy hits hard, we test how long your faces last against it.”
Kirishima pumped a fist. “Manliest wall incoming.”
“Cool,” I said. “Just make sure it is not a man-sized crater.”
Tetsutetsu nodded, arms crossed like a brick. Izuku looked like he wanted to ask five questions. I ignored it.
“Bakugo, Todoroki, Tokoyami. South ridge is yours. Use the switchbacks. Bakugo, you stall with blasts. Todoroki seals exits. Tokoyami handles blind flanks. Coordinate or die. Your call.”
Bakugo scoffed. “They follow me.”
Todoroki didn’t argue. Tokoyami just gave a thumbs-up from the shadows like it was his natural state.
“Uraraka, Iida, Sero. You’re on evac routes. Civilian movement, dock to bunker. No screwups. If someone drops, you catch. If debris falls, you clear it. If I see a grandma tripping over a rock, I am sending all three of you into the sea.”
Sero nodded. Iida was already muttering about optimal carry formations. Uraraka cracked her knuckles.
I scanned the last bit of the map Momo left pinned to the crate, tapped the side where the cliffs dropped straight into the sea, and turned back toward the rest. Still too many bodies for how small this shed was, but they were quiet now. Eyes locked, waiting.
“Mina, Tsuyu, Hagakure,” I called. “You three are my hit squad. You cut off enemy mobility fast. Tsuyu, you are the anchor... use those jumps, scatter targets. Hagakure… you are my blade. Stay invisible, strike fast, disappear again.”
Tsuyu adjusted her goggles. “Got it.”
Mina gave a thumbs-up.
Toru grinned, "Finally!"
I merged Tsuburaba’s air walls with Mineta’s sticky balls, ugliest combo ever, and tied the whole mess together with Bondo’s glue. Looked like a toddler’s art project gone rogue, but it worked. Glue traps laced the cliffside choke points, set to deploy with a hard yank or one quirked signal. I didn’t trust it to last past a minute in a real fight, but if it gave us ten seconds to reposition, I’d take it.
Komori sprinkled spores across the back trails. They made people sneeze and throw off sensors, which was enough for me to call it useful. Tokage mapped out escape tunnels under the gardens and halfway into the hills, claimed she'd tested them herself by full-body lizard split. I told her if she got stuck again, she was digging her way out with her face.
Setsuna and Pony set traps at beach level. Manga painted a few fake signs, “Tide Pool Closed,” “Quirk Gas Leak," and at least one warning in stylized kanji that looked suspiciously like it said “Ass-Breaker Zone.” Kuroiro tested which shadows connected from one storage shack to the next without tripping Sero’s sensor lines. Even Monoma shut up and replicated people’s quirks just to load them into a fake squad formation display. Looked dumb as hell, but it worked as decoy mapping.
We ran drills. Moved crates. Adjusted the angle of every funnel point around the town. Juzo softened the ground at the ambush sites. Kodai resized the terrain blocks for temporary cover. The whole island looked like someone planned a disaster and sold tickets.
The next morning came too quick. Hikaru got everyone off Nabu by dawn, ferried them in three trips, packed tight with bags and confused faces. The kids came first. Parents next. Then anyone who didn’t look like they could swing a broom without their spine snapping.
By the time night hit again, everything was ready. Or as ready as anything slapped together in thirty-six hours could be.
I sat alone by the dock, legs stretched, head leaning back against a cold railing. Water lapped at the rocky cliff Somewhere to my left, a rope creaked with the tide. The stars were a little blurry. I hadn’t slept.
Midnight dropped a quilt over my shoulders. “You are gonna catch cold.”
"That the teacher voice or the mom one?”
She sat beside me, legs crossed, jacket zipped up halfway like she couldn’t decide if it was night patrol or nap time. “Little of both.”
“Why aren't you resting.”
“Slept enough. Any news?”
I pointed toward Nabu. From here, just a thin smear of land across the water, barely visible between breaks in the clouds. A soft glow flickered over it... brief flashes, small, but not natural. Then came the distant ripple of sound, like thunder wrapped in static. Quirk discharge. Far off but unmistakable.
“Is that-” Midnight leaned forward.
“Yeah,” I said. “Looks like the main boogey lost patience.”
Another flash. This one wider. Pale violet light stretched from the coastline and cut into the sky before fading. A moment later, a deeper thump rolled out, one that shook the rails a bit.
“Guess he noticed Nabu’s empty,” I added, eyes locked on the dark stretch of ocean between us.
Midnight didn’t reply. She crossed her legs and dug a nail into the cork of her water bottle like she was
“You think they come here next?”
I got up, dusting sand from my ass. “Yeah.” I stepped past her. “Get some rest.”
When I got to Hatsume’s place the room was a mess. Spare parts, wire coils, half-dismantled sensors on the floor. Momo sat on a stool near the monitor, her legs crossed, flipping through a notepad stacked with sketches and circuit diagrams. Hatsume was crouched in front of the desk, goggles pulled over her eyes, fast-forwarding through grainy surveillance feed like she was hunting for an easter egg.
“Did you get anything?”
Momo looked up. “Some. Not much. It is not pretty.”
Hatsume clicked her tongue, froze the screen, and jabbed at a blurry figure kicking up concrete near a dock on Nabu. “That is him. Watch this.”
She rolled it back five seconds. The guy, tall, broad, coat flaring, raised one hand. The feed glitched. A second later, part of a building peeled off like paper, flung sideways with a gust. Wind didn’t just knock things over, it folded signs, snapped posts, flipped carts.
“Wind control,” I muttered.
Hatsume nodded, eyes still on the screen. “Not just flinging air. Pressure manipulation. That wasn’t just weather. It was forced displacement.”
Another clip. Different angle. The same guy turning toward a bunch of cars left behind. Light pulsed from his fingers. Straight shot, narrow and fast. It hit the car like a bullet through butter.
“Beam. Compact, focused. Looks like a condensed laser. Pierces clean,” Momo said.
Third clip. Closer. A drone’s aerial footage that hiccuped halfway through. He extended his hand and something shot out. Black and violet strands, almost like tentacles. They stabbed, wrapped, pulled.
Hatsume paused it and rewound slowly, frame by frame. “Energy tendrils. Non-solid, but they do damage. Grapple capable. Anchors to metal better than stone.”
“That’s three quirks,” I said.
Momo folded the notepad. “Which means he is not normal.”
“He is the main one,” I said.
I sighed, dragging a hand across my face. “If I am right, that thing is a prototype. Faulty version of All for One, made in a lab, probably pissed off that it still bleeds.”
Momo stiffened. “You mean-”
"Yeah."
Hatsume scrubbed through more footage, muttering under her breath as new angles popped up, each worse than the last. More damage. Faster cuts. Ground split open like paper under pressure. They were just destroying houses, ground to see if anyone was hiding.
“Here,” she said. She zoomed in on the same shot from a higher view. Crowd scattering around a pier. One of the drones caught a clear frame just before going dead.
Three people.
Villains.
First was tall, broad-shouldered, covered in patchy armor and furs, with what looked like scales creeping up the sides of his neck. He was swinging a half-bent streetlight like a baseball bat.
Second one looked like someone gift-wrapped a corpse in toilet paper. Layers of fabric wound tight, almost like mummification but with quirk energy trailing along the edges. Arms out, controlling threads, dragging obstacles into cover. One of the nearby crates floated like it was weightless.
“Manipulator. Thread-based. Probably can override tech.”
The third was a woman. Short hair, pale face, long blade-like growths sliding from her fingertips. Her silhouette barely visible before vanishing from the frame. Hatsume rewound, frame-by-frame. Saw the instant she launched herself, used some kind of whip-jump across the gap, and impaled a drone midair.
“Close-quarters, surgical. Movement-enhanced. Probably enhanced senses, too.”
Fur Tank, Thread Puppet, Blade Bitch… adds flair and easier recall during fight later.
Henchmen. Looked like fourty or so, split into clusters. Not uniformed, but all carried similar gear... basic support kit, tracking goggles, communication bands. Probably League leftovers. Or cannon fodder.
“Support team,” I said. “Grunts. Two-man clusters. Enough to run sweep patterns and scout while the heavy hitters do their thing.”
Momo leaned in. “If this is who is coming... and they think the target is here...”
“They will hit hard, move fast, and dig until they find something. And they think we are the dirt.”
Hatsume leaned back, goggles still down. “This guy... he is not operating like a brawler. His moves are too coordinated. They are running like a small strike team.”
I nodded. “Means he is thinking like one. He wants something.”
“He is not just here to flex?”
“If he was, Nabu would already be burning.”
Hatsume switched back to real-time satellite imaging. “Their ship is not on radar. Last ping was west of Nabu, two hours ago. Then it vanished. Stealth mode?”
I chuckled, pushed off the edge of the table, and glanced at the dark screen again. “We don’t need radar to know they’re coming. Prep everyone. Two hours, we fight.”
Comments
hector lyng
Holy crap, it's going to take a double episode, it got good.
