Cholo Tales
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My World My Justice Ch. 30
🕑 Added 2026-01-10 03:40:28 +0000 UTCI arrive at what's technically the outskirts of the city. Well, that would be stretching the definition significantly because we're way past the actual outskirts; more like we're already on the highway with barely any city skyline visible in the far distance. Just empty road stretching in both directions, sparse vegetation dotting the landscape, and the occasional faded billboard.
But the location isn't what matters right now. What matters is what—or rather, who—is waiting in front of us.
Because yes, Futaba is also here with me, despite me repeatedly telling her it wasn't necessary and that it would be much safer for her to stay at her apartment like usual. But apparently this was something she'd already arranged and personally promised to attend, so here we are standing on an empty highway in the middle of nowhere.
Of course, she's staying close to me, practically using me as a human shield, and wearing that same ridiculous LEGO-style helmet from before. Though she has changed into a fresh set of clothes; a dark jacket with multiple pockets, practical jeans, and sturdy boots.
But the really important thing about this meeting is... well, we're meeting with two villains. Former members of the ABB's.
So standing in front of us is Bane; or Muscular as he calls himself now, the giant man with his massive arms crossed over his chest. And next to the line of trucks behind him is Lady Nagant, or Nightline as she's apparently going by these days, seated casually on the hood of the lead vehicle and smoking a cigarette.
What's surprising is that this woman was actually part of the ABB's inner circle and was apparently Futaba's insider this whole time. The one who provided all that intel about Lung's movements, the ABB's operations and plans.
Which made it possible to hit them many times with the independents' help.
Behind them is a group of former ABB gangsters. I count seven large trucks total and over two dozen people milling about, though notably none of them appear to be visibly armed or displaying the usual ABB colors and insignia, also some of them aren’t even Asian.
It's Bane who steps forward first, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel as he closes some of the distance between us.
"So you have come, True Might," he starts. Then his eyes shift to my much smaller companion standing partially behind me. "Oracle, this is a pleasant surprise."
"Indeed, misguided citizen!" I respond with my usual enthusiasm, my voice booming across the empty highway. "When a friend requests my presence to discuss matters of great importance, justice itself compels me to answer without hesitation! No journey is too far, no meeting too dangerous when the call of righteousness sounds!"
Oracle stretches casually beside me, rolling her shoulders and seemingly completely unbothered by the scene. "Well, I figured I could extend the olive branch personally for this talk. After all, we all shared a common goal these past weeks, didn't we? Taking down Lung and dismantling his entire criminal empire piece by piece."
She tilts her helmeted head slightly. "Plus, I wanted to make sure you guys actually kept your word about the terms we discussed. Trust, but verify, you know?"
"I see..." Bane rubs the back of his thick neck thoughtfully with one hand, his expression behind his mask contemplative. Then he looks directly at Futaba and leans his head down closer to her level. "Before we begin, Oracle... you are not Barbara Gordon, are you?"
That name surprises me because he knows Batgirl and her civilian identity, and more importantly, what that information implies. This means he HAS to be from Gotham—or more accurately, from a DC universe entirely. Which means he was dropped here like so many others we have yet to meet.
"Of course not, Muscular," The otaku replies smoothly without missing a beat, and I can practically hear the smirk in her voice. "Or should I call you Bane? Since we're being all honest and stuff now."
Bane straightens up and chuckles. "Figured as much once we started working together. The voice was completely wrong, and the tone was too different. Besides, the real Barbara was... different. She was a good person, truly good. One of the few noble souls in Gotham."
There's respect and maybe even a hint of sadness in his tone when he mentions her.
Futaba bows slightly at the waist. "Thank you for all the help, you two. Seriously, without you two, we couldn't have dismantled the ABB so thoroughly in the middle of the chaos. After all, a gang is nothing without their money and their legitimate business fronts to launder it through, their drug production labs, their weapons caches, and their human trafficking operations."
She straightens up and continues, "With your help we hit them where it really hurt—the infrastructure that actually kept the organization running. Lung was just the scary face of it all."
Nightline hops down from her perch on the truck hood with practiced ease and approaches our position, taking a long, contemplative drag from her cigarette before speaking. Smoke curls from her lips as she talks.
"We were biding our time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike," she says, her voice carrying a bitter edge. "Lung only knew how to fight and intimidate through raw power, but he knew absolutely nothing about actual administration, logistics, or management. He was a blunt instrument, nothing more."
She flicks ash from her cigarette dismissively. "He left all the work that kept the ABB functioning to various lieutenants and middle managers. I systematically eliminated and replaced the key ones over the past two years, positioning my own people. That left me controlling the finances, the logistics, the entire operational backbone. Lung was just the attack dog we tried to keep on a leash."
So she's essentially saying she was the real power behind the ABB's throne? The actual brains of the operation while Lung was just the muscle?
"Okay, so why did you actually request this face-to-face meeting with our big guy here?" Futaba asks directly, tapping my arm to emphasize her point. "You could've just taken your cut of the spoils and disappeared. Why stick around and risk this conversation?"
"Indeed! A situation most curious and intriguing!" I declare, thumping my chest. "Have these misguided citizens been called by the radiant light of justice to walk the noble path of redemption? Do you seek to turn away from villainy and embrace righteousness?"
Nightline blows out a long stream of smoke and lets out a dry, humorless laugh that sounds more like a scoff. "Redemption? That's... actually hearing you up close and in person is so completely different from watching the videos online or seeing news footage. It's surreal, honestly."
She throws her cigarette butt down and crushes it deliberately under her boot, then adjusts her long indigo hair. "But it's infectious nonetheless, that whole... sincere belief thing you have going on. I can see exactly why people are drawn to you, why you're inspiring hope in this shithole."
Her expression changes. "Unlike all the fakes and phonies out there playing at cops and robbers, you're real. You actually believe every single word you're saying, don't you? It's not a stupid act. That's just... who you are."
"Fakes?" Futaba asks the important question. "What are you talking about?"
That's exactly what I'm wondering too. What is she implying?
The woman crosses her arms, her expression darkening. "The ‘heroes’ who wear the costume but don't live up to what it's supposed to represent. The ones who joined the Protectorate not because they wanted to help people, but because it was a steady paycheck and legal protection to not be sent to the Birdcage after they fucked up."
I frown at that, because even with the issues I know some of the Protectorate and even Wards want to help people as much as possible but PRT bullshit holds them back.
She takes a step closer. "I used to be one of them, you know. A Protectorate hero but from the Canadian branch. They called me Lady Nagant a valuable asset. And I believed in it at first, really believed I was making a difference."
Bane speaks up. "She is referring to the systemic rot within the organizations that claim to uphold justice. The compromises they make in the name of pragmatism and greater good. The way they recruit known villains simply for their utility, turning a blind eye to past crimes if the bastard is powerful enough or useful enough."
Those words make me believe that Bane holds an honor and moral code. But he is right, the PRT would recruit villains and do a whole rebranding and reformation, Assault was Madcap for example.
I wonder how Terra is doing there; I haven't heard about her after Rune defected to the PRT and brought Terra.
"Wait, wait, you were a member of the Protectorate?" Futaba raises a hand, sounding confused. "That's not in any of the databases I could access. How—"
"Because they scrubbed it," Nightline interrupts bitterly. "When their dogs become a nuisance, they disappear. Not killed necessarily, but erased. Records deleted, identity reassigned, officially never existed."
She laughs again, which sounds hollow. "I watched them recruit murderers, rapists. But they had useful abilities, so all was forgiven in the name of maintaining order. Changed their names and even gave them plastic surgery to change their appearance."
What the fuck?
I know the PRT and the Protectorate were willing to negotiate with past villains so they would join their ranks and also show some leniency to past crimes but I also know they have clear limits of what they can forgive because they would have never EVER would have allowed someone like Kaiser or Hookwolf no matter how useful they were.
Except that’s what this branch does, what other branches would or can do is another story. And knowing Cauldron…
Bane simply nods. "When the supposed guardians become indistinguishable from those they claim to oppose, what meaning does 'villain' and 'hero' truly have? This is merely a weapons race and the innocent are nothing but collateral in this field."
Nightline's gaze locks onto me. "But then you showed up. You don't weigh whether someone is 'worth' saving based on their usefulness or public opinion. You just... save people, everyone. Even your enemies. Despite when it would be easier not to."
She gestures at Bane. "He's told me about watching you. How you fought Hookwolf and could have killed him easily, but didn't. How you prioritize civilian safety over everything else, even capturing villains. How you mean every ridiculous word that comes out of your mouth."
"In a world of necessary evils and acceptable compromises," Bane adds with gravitas, "you stand as proof that true heroism is not naïve fantasy in this rotten world but achievable reality. Difficult, yes. Painful, certainly. But possible."
Futaba shifts beside me, and I can tell she's processing all of this information.
Then she suddenly holds up one hand in front of her. "Okay, wait. Time out. Hold on just a second here."
Both capes turn their attention to her.
"Look, I can see how all of that could theoretically happen. Earth-bet IS in chaos, we ARE living on borrowed time with the Endbringers showing up every few months, society IS hanging by a thread barely held together. I can understand why certain... morally questionable measures might be taken in the name of survival. Terrible things done for the supposed greater good."
She takes a step forward, her small frame projecting authority despite being dwarfed by everyone present. "But here's what I don't get—you two STILL went and joined the ABB willingly. You became active, participating members of an organization that trafficked people across international borders, that forced women and girls into sexual slavery, that murdered civilians for street cred and territorial disputes. The ABB has caused enormous harm to this city, in case you somehow haven't noticed. Hell, you conducted a bank heist which killed the security guards, Bane!"
Her voice rises in anger. "So how can you dare to claim any kind of moral high ground here?! How is what you're saying not just complete hypocrisy wrapped in philosophical mambo-jumbo?! You talk about corrupt heroes and systemic rot while you were literally running a criminal empire that ruined countless lives!"
I mentally agree with her point. It sounds like an elaborate justification for being terrible people, dressing to make it sound noble.
Lady Nagant's eyes narrow dangerously, her jaw clenching visibly. Her hand twitches toward her hip and she takes an aggressive step forward.
But Bane quickly extends one massive hand, placing it firmly on her shoulder. "Peace, Kaina. She raises a valid point that deserves an honest answer."
He turns his full attention back to us. "You are absolutely correct to call out the blatant contradiction, Oracle. We understand how this looks from the outside. And we are not asking you to excuse our actions or grant us any kind of absolution for what we've done. We do not deserve it, and we know that."
He takes a deep, measured breath. "This is not a justification for what we have done; let me be clear about that. It is merely an explanation of the impossible choices we made in an untenable situation. I know intimately what a world looks like when there is nobody left to impose any kind of order, or at least control and limit the chaos. I have seen it with my own eyes, lived through it for years, survived it when so many others did not. The horrors I witnessed in that collapse... the absolute depravity that human beings are capable of when all structure and consequences disappear entirely... I do not ever want to see that nightmare again. Nobody deserves to experience that hell. No child should ever have to grow up in that kind of world."
Wait, he sounds like he actually witnessed the complete, total collapse of civilization. Does that mean in his original world the Justice League was destroyed? That Superman and Batman and all the other heroes failed catastrophically and anarchy reigned supreme across the entire planet?
"When I saw the ABB's operations, I recognized the same patterns, the same trajectory toward that ultimate horror," Bane continues with a heavy tone. "If we had been strong enough, powerful enough, I would have simply killed Lung years ago and dismantled his gang. But we were not strong enough to face him directly and win. Simple as that. We tried once, early on, and barely survived the attempt."
He gestures to Nightline standing beside him. "So we did the next best thing available to us given our limitations. We infiltrated from within. We bided our time. In the meantime we controlled it, we directed it, we limited the damage as much as we could without exposing ourselves."
His expression becomes harder behind his mask. "If there had been nobody to control those animals, if Lung had been left to his own devices with no restraint, they would have been openly gutting civilians in the streets for entertainment. They would have turned their infamous 'farms'—" he says the word with utter disgust and barely contained rage, "—into commercial snuff film production facilities and gore-fest."
Jesus…
"The PRT did absolutely nothing to actually mitigate or control these bastards," Nightline speaks up with the bitter tone. "They wrote off entire neighborhoods as 'ABB territory' and just... let it happen. Acceptable losses. Collateral damage. Not worth the resources to properly address. So we did what we could from the inside."
"There was a cape who originally called himself Muscular," Bane says matter-of-factly. "A bastard who embodied everything wrong with this broken world. He was a sadist of the worst kind, everything I utterly despise. So I killed him personally and assumed his identity and future position within the ABB. After all, we both had similar enhancement-based 'powers' and physical builds. It was... convenient."
"Look, like we already knew—the ABB was a ticking time bomb from the very moment Lung took control and drove out all opposition," Nightline interjects. "We did as much as we could possibly do with our limited power and precarious position to delay that inevitable and reduce the body count when it finally came. We saved lives by being there, even if we had to do terrible things to maintain our cover. And now here we are, with Lung finally defeated, and the organization shattered into pieces, never to recover."
There's a heavy, uncomfortable silence.
I think about their situation carefully. They're not wrong about the world being a nightmare—I've seen enough evidence of that. They're not wrong about the PRT's systematic failures—I've witnessed those too. But they still DID those things.
Then Futaba breaks the tense silence with a direct, pointed question. "Were you the one who killed those capes that Mirko and True Might captured after the fight? The ones who got shot multiple times in the chest before they could be properly taken to PRT custody?"
I remember that moment.
"I did, yeah. That was me." Nightline doesn't hesitate or try to deny it, meeting our gaze directly.
"Why?" Futaba presses.
"Because the main target was a serial rapist," The older cape says flatly, her voice completely devoid of emotion or regret. "Do you want me to list all his crimes in detail? Because I can. I have the files memorized. The bastard even recorded himself doing it to his victims, kept digital trophies and detailed logs organized by date. He had victims in the double digits, and several of them were minors under fifteen."
The silence that follows is answer enough.
"That's why I executed him." She pauses, then adds, "The others I only pretended to shoot to maintain my cover and keep up appearances as a loyal ABB enforcer. And since our guy here is completely immune to bullets, he made the perfect target to keep shooting at while making it look like I was trying to kill him too. No actual harm done to an innocent."
"Okay, that... I can understand," Futaba says quietly, sighing heavily as she rubs the back of her neck in frustration. "Not saying I agree with the execution, but I understand the motivation."
I think back to that moment, replaying it in my mind. Part of me instinctively thinks "good riddance". But I still feel strangely empty and conflicted about the whole situation.
Lethargic maybe?
I realize I've been far too quiet this whole time, just standing here like a statue while everyone else is discussing. I need to speak up because they are here for me after all. But what can I possibly say? What are the right words for a situation this morally complicated?
Soon enough I get the answer and I take one step forward and look Bane directly in the eye—or rather, at the mask where he's painted those distinctive triangular red eye markings that make him look intimidating to the common man.
The man doesn't flinch or look away. He remains completely stoic and unmoved, meeting my gaze steadily with no visible sign of fear or hesitation. Everyone around us goes completely quiet.
And I simply extend an open hand toward him.
He looks down at my hand for a long moment then slowly reaches out and takes it. His grip is firm, his palm calloused.
Then I pull him into a bro hug and patting him firmly on the back with my other hand.
"My friend," I start, notably without my usual theatrical loud tone or booming voice. "It must have been an unbearable burden to carry. A soul who has witnessed the darkest depths of evil's corruption, who has seen civilization itself crumble into chaos and complete despair. And then, upon finding yourself in a new land with the guiding light of justice still struggling to shine, being forced to remain within evil's suffocating clutches. To wade through darkness and moral filth so that others might more safely reach the light!"
I pat his back again, harder this time. "A tragic sacrifice indeed, one that few would have the strength to endure. To become the very monster you despise, to commit acts that stain your personal honor and soul, all in desperate service of preventing even greater horrors from befalling the innocent. The crushing weight of such impossible choices would break lesser men entirely!"
I pull away from the embrace and look him directly in those eyes again, my hands gripping his broad shoulders firmly.
"My justice understands your situation," I say, my voice taking on a more serious, measured tone that's unusual for me. "The impossible position you found yourselves trapped in. The terrible choices with no good options available. I comprehend why you did what you did, why you made those decisions..."
I pause, letting those words sink in for everyone present.
"But!" My voice rises again with conviction. "Understanding is not the same as forgiveness! Comprehension is not the same as excuse or absolution! You were valuable allies in our righteous crusade against the tyrannical forces of evil, yes! And for that crucial help, you have my gratitude and respect! But that alliance cannot simply erase the crimes committed along the way, the lives harmed, the justice that was denied to victims!"
I release his shoulders and take a step back, creating some distance. "You have aided the cause of justice today and in the weeks leading up to this glorious victory, but justice itself demands that all wrongdoers eventually face proper judgment! You must stand before the light of righteousness and be fairly judged for your actions! You must pay the appropriate price for your crimes, face the full consequences of your choices! To do otherwise would be to corrupt justice itself, to make a complete mockery of everything true justice stands for!"
My voice softens slightly, but remains firm. "You cannot be exempt from judgment simply because your ultimate intentions were noble or your circumstances were extraordinarily difficult! That path of selective justice leads only to hypocrisy, favoritism, and the very institutional corruption you both claim to oppose!"
Bane sighs deeply, a sound heavy with acceptance and perhaps even a note of relief at having this acknowledged openly. Kaina lowers her head, and I can clearly see shame and regret in her posture.
"I know," Bane says quietly, his deep voice carrying certainty and resignation. "And I will gladly turn myself in to face proper trial for all the crimes I have committed when the time is right and my work is complete. I am fully prepared to accept whatever punishment justice fairly demands, even if that means I never see the light of day again as a free man."
He pauses. "But first, there are other desperate places in this broken world that need help immediately, other innocents who will suffer and die horribly without direct intervention at least until your influence has reached those places too. Only after completing that necessary work will I willingly turn myself over to you, True Might, to face judgment. Or I will allow myself to be killed in the attempt if the situation demands that."
"Then go and continue your work elsewhere, but walk a different path this time!" I declare, thumping my chest with one fist. "Aid those who cannot aid themselves! Protect the innocent from predators and tyrants! Fight in service of justice and the defenseless! But never again ally with the forces of evil, no matter how tempting it seems! Know that justice will wait patiently for your eventual return! The scales must be balanced, but they need not be balanced today!"
My friend steps forward. "Where exactly are you two planning to go?”
Bane and Nightline exchange a quick glance, then look back at the disguised girl.
"We're moving to West Africa," Bane says matter-of-factly. "Specifically to deal with some of the more brutal warlords and human trafficking operations in that region. Places where the local governments have completely collapsed or are complicit in the crimes."
Ex-Lady Nagant—Nightline—speaks up, her voice carrying a note of determination mixed with something that might be hope. "I plan to volunteer my services in the defense force protecting Grandma Stuffum's operations. That old woman is doing incredible, life-saving humanitarian work across multiple crisis zones, but there's never enough security or protection for her clinics, her convoys, or the people she helps. Even the Knights of Round Table aren't enough to deter all the warlords, slavers, and raiders."
Futaba nods slowly. "That would definitely help save lives, yeah. You're right that we can't be everywhere at once or solve every problem plaguing the world. At least actively mitigating some of the worst damage in places where help is desperately needed and severely lacking is objectively better than doing nothing at all."
She looks at them both seriously. "So I guess this is goodbye then? At least for now?"
"Correct," Bane confirms simply.
Then he raises one massive hand and makes a sharp, authoritative gesture toward the waiting convoy. Immediately, everyone around the trucks begins climbing into vehicles, starting engines with rumbling roars, checking equipment and supplies one final time. The entire convoy comes to organized life with the collective rumble of heavy diesel engines.
Nightline sighs heavily, and then, somewhat surprisingly, actually smiles at us. "Good luck with cleaning up the rest of the United States. You're doing good work here, hero. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
She gives us a small salute with two fingers to her forehead, then turns smoothly and climbs into the passenger seat of the nearest truck.
That leaves just Bane standing before us as the engines idle and exhaust fumes drift in the air.
And then, much to both Futaba's and my surprise, he reaches up with both hands and slowly removes his distinctive mask, revealing the heavily scarred but dignified face beneath.
He extends his hand formally.
"Eduardo Dorrance," he says clearly. "That's the name of the man you're looking for to arrest once all this is over. Remember that name, True Might. When I return, that's who you'll be taking into custody."
I nod solemnly, committing the name to memory, and take his hand in a firm handshake. Man to man.
"Justice will remember, Eduardo Dorrance," I say with absolute certainty. "We will meet again under very different circumstances. I give you my word."
He nods once, accepting this promised future with dignity, then carefully puts his mask back on and hops with surprising agility onto the truck bed of the lead vehicle. He pounds twice on the roof with his fist.
The convoy begins to move, trucks pulling away one by one in an organized formation. We stand and watch as they drive down the empty highway, growing steadily smaller in the distance until they're just dark shapes against the horizon, then indistinct dust clouds kicked up by their passage, then nothing at all but empty road.
Futaba and I stand there in heavy silence, watching until they've completely disappeared from view.
After a long while, my friend reaches up and takes off her LEGO helmet with a soft, tired sigh, tucking it under one arm. Her hair is thoroughly messy from being compressed inside for a while.
"Did we do the right thing?" she asks aloud, sounding uncertain in a way I rarely hear from the usually confident hacker. "Just letting them go like that without arresting them? They committed serious crimes, lots of them.Good people were hurt because of their actions and decisions, even if they were genuinely trying to minimize the overall damage."
She looks up at me with troubled eyes. "I mean, I get the utilitarian argument—they'll probably do significantly more good fighting warlords in Africa than rotting in a prison cell here. The math works out in favor of lives saved. But is that really how justice is supposed to work? Can we just... make convenient exceptions because the outcomes seem better? Wouldn't that make us morally the same as the PRT, or Cauldron with their 'greater good' mantra?"
I don't answer immediately with words. Instead, I simply place my hand gently on top of her head and ruffle her hair, the same way someone might comfort a younger sibling.
She leans into the gesture slightly.
"Yeah," she says quietly after a moment, looking back toward the horizon. "I guess we'll find out eventually if we made the right call."
I nod in agreement, keeping my hand on her head.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
The sun is setting over Brockton Bay, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange, pink, and deep purple. I'm sitting on a hill at the outskirts of the city; a good fifty miles from the actual city limits, far enough that the urban sprawl looks almost peaceful from this distance. After a few hectic days, the city has mostly recovered from the chaos, and I could finally sit down to rest and take a proper break. The injured have been treated thanks to Amy's tireless work; which reminds me, I need to visit her soon to properly thank and reward her for everything she did. She deserves all the praise and gifts I can give her, seriously, poor girl being overworked. Emergency services have everything under control now, and people are gradually returning to their normal lives, or what passes for normal in Brockton Bay.
The hill we're on is the tallest one we could find with a decent view of the city. It's not spectacular or anything, but it's good enough to see the distant skyline and watch the lights starting to flicker on as evening approaches.
Pretty nice, actually. Peaceful.
We've got a blanket spread out under us, and beside us is a basket containing some sandwiches Futaba picked up from somewhere and several cans of beer that have been sitting in ice and are just thawing to the perfect drinking temperature.
Then comes that signature click-hiss sound of a cold one being cracked open.
"CHEERS!" Futaba shouts, raising her can high into the air before immediately putting it to her lips and chugging like her life depends on it. Some beer trickles down her chin, but she doesn't seem to care at all.
I follow suit, raising my can in acknowledgment before taking a long, satisfying drink. The cold beer tastes absolutely incredible after the long, exhausting days we've had.
Even if I cannot get physically tired, you get the idea.
Futaba is the first to finish, pulling the can away from her lips with an exaggerated gasp. "Ahhhhhhh! That's the good stuff! Nothing beats a cold one after all that hard work and stress! I feel like I aged ten years after everything!" She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking content.
I nod in agreement, finishing my beer at a more measured pace before crushing the aluminum can easily in my hand. I'm a little disappointed that I literally cannot get drunk since my body processes alcohol way too efficiently and also being immune to anything relatively harmful but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good beer for the taste alone.
And this was definitely an excellent beer.
Futaba reaches into the basket and grabs two sandwiches, immediately stuffing her face with one while tossing the other to me without looking. We both take big bites, and the simple food tastes way better than it has any right to be. Something about eating after dangerous works makes everything taste amazing.
After swallowing her mouthful and taking another quick sip of beer, Futaba clears her throat.
"You know," she begins, staring out at the distant city lights with an unusually contemplative expression, "when I first started planning this whole operation, I honestly wasn't sure if we could actually pull it off. And that's not me doubting you or underestimating your abilities or anything. I mean, I've seen what you could do and all that. But like... on paper? It all looked good. All the pieces were theoretically there. But there were so many variables, so many things that could've gone catastrophically wrong and turned this into a complete disaster..."
She takes another bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before continuing.
"Lung ramped up way faster than any plan predicted—like, he basically speed-ran his transformation. There were more ABB capes than my initial intel suggested. Coil could've had backup plans we didn't account for despite how thorough I was. The Empire could've hit us way harder during the chaos and taken advantage. Oni Lee could've done way more damage with those suicide bomber clones—I mean, that bastard got one of my surveillance cameras so I completely lost communication with that entire section of the operation. Any one of those things going slightly more wrong could've turned this into a bloodbath with hundreds or thousands of casualties. We were lucky in many places."
She pauses dramatically, then breaks into a huge grin.
"But we did it. We actually fucking did it! Like, holy shit!" She pumps her fist in the air. "Lung's captured and completely powerless, literally limbless and in custody. Coil's arrested and singing. The ABB is completely shattered as an organization because they have disbanded and scattered. All of Coil's bombs are defused and catalogued. Civilian casualties were minimal—like, shockingly, miraculously minimal considering the absolute scale of what went down. We're talking single digits for fatalities in a gang war that could've killed thousands, like it was the war of the Teeth against Marquis. And the city's already bouncing back stronger than before!"
Futaba turns to look directly at me, adjusting her glasses.
"I couldn't have done any of this without you, Daniel. Like, literally zero percent chance. Not trying to offend the other capes which I work with but its the truth. The whole plan hinged entirely on you being able to go toe-to-toe with Lung at his absolute strongest like, kaiju-sized dragon Lung, and not just survive but win decisively. And you didn't just win; you completely demolished him! Made it look easy, even! You turned a thirty-foot fire-breathing dragon into a quadruple amputee with a meteor drop! That's insane!"
She laughs, shaking her head. "I mean, I never doubted you could do it, but still... you can't get too comfy or overconfident in this line of work. One miscalculation and boom, everything falls apart and you get kidnapped, or a slit throat."
She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through something. "And that meteor drop finish? Loved it, it was a totally anime moment. The footage is already going completely viral across every forum, news site, and social media platform. People are calling it the 'Dragon Slayer Slam' or the 'Justice Meteor' or some other dramatic shit like that." She shows me her screen filled with video clips and memes. "Although we both know its real name is 'Justice Crush,' which is way hammier and therefore way better. Either way, you're officially a national legend now—probably international too. Some forums are already seriously considering you the best hope against the Endbringers. You've got fan clubs popping up in like six different countries."
I finish my sandwich and pull out my phone to type a response: 'Don't diminish yourself. I couldn't have done any of this without you coordinating everything. I just punched things really hard in the directions you pointed me at.'
"Yeah, but you punched things REALLY, REALLY well though," she shoots back immediately with a grin, taking another swig of beer. "And seriously, don't sell yourself short here. You trusted me completely with a plan that could've gotten you killed if I screwed up. You followed everything even when it got super complicated and chaotic. And you adapted perfectly when Lung grew way faster than any of us expected and basically broke the entire timeline we had planned. That takes serious courage, not just physical strength."
She grabs another beer from the basket, pops it open with a satisfying hiss, and takes a more measured sip this time instead of chugging it.
"Plus, you gave Armsmaster public credit for his part, which was a really smart move. You're definitely the bigger hero in the public eye now, I mean, you literally fought a dragon—but Armsmaster doesn't fall too far behind for saving the city from like thirty different bombs that would've brought down half the city and killed thousands. I made absolutely sure to leak all the right information to the press about his role, and Coil was surprisingly forthcoming with info about his bomb locations once he realized how screwed he was. Piggot's probably absolutely fuming about it—her 'favorite,'" she makes exaggerated air quotes, "hero went ahead without any official orders and acted completely independently with other heroes. But she can't do shit about it now because he's a massive public hero. Colin's getting major recognition for taking down Coil's entire operation, and that seriously helps our relationship with both the Protectorate, PRT leadership and Cauldron will be on our side. Win-win situation all around."
Futaba stretches out lazily on the blanket, staring up at the darkening sky as stars become visible.
"You know what the best part is, though? Like, the thing that makes me happiest about all this?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "For once, for once! We were ahead of everything. We controlled the entire situation instead of just desperately reacting to whatever crisis popped up next. That almost never happens in this screwed-up world. Parahumans are usually playing catch-up with whatever disaster strikes next, scrambling to minimize damage. People die in the crossfire constantly because heroes are always one step behind the villains."
She's quiet for a moment, just enjoying the peaceful evening and the comfortable silence between us.
"But not this time. This time we saw it coming, planned for it, and executed almost perfectly. We saved so many lives by being proactive instead of reactive." Her voice gets a bit softer, more genuine. "So yeah. Today was a good day. A really, fantastic day because we beat the grimdark. One of the best days since I got stuck in this crazy world, honestly."
She sits up and raises her beer can toward me. "Here's to more days like this! To actually winning for once! And to not dying horribly in the process in this grimdark world!"
I nod in complete agreement, grabbing another beer for myself and clinking my can against hers with a metallic tink.
We sit there in comfortable silence after that, watching the sun finish setting over Brockton Bay as the city lights fully come on. The sky transitions from orange and pink to deep purple and finally to the dark blue of early night. Two people who just helped save a city from tearing itself apart, who prevented thousands of deaths, who took down one of the most dangerous villains on the East Coast, just sitting on a hill, drinking beer, eating sandwiches.
It's nice. Really nice. We should do this more often when we're not trying to prevent city wide crisis.
"Hey, Daniel... can I ask you something?"
I glance over at her and nod, grabbing another beer from the basket.
"What was your life like? Before all this, I mean. Before the company, before the powers, before becoming True Might." She fidgets with her empty beer can, spinning it between her fingers. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... I realized I don't actually know much about who you, as you, were before all of this happened."
I pause mid-drink, considering the question. It's been a while since I've really thought about my life before everything changed. Well... the two lives, technically.
I pull out my phone and start typing: 'Which one do you want to know about? Me, the other me, or me as a clone?'
The gamer girl pouts, looking away for a moment with a conflicted expression. "Ugh, I forgot about that—two complete lives' worth of memories downloaded into one body. That's... that's actually a tough question now that I think about it. Which one is really you, you know?"
I shrug. 'Even as a clone, I do remember that original past life, and all I can say is that I was content with it. Some people would call it mediocre or boring, but it was a normal, happy life with my family. Mostly playing video games, working a regular job, and enjoying all kinds of different foods. Simple stuff.'
"Oh, you were a foodie?"
I nod.
She crosses her arms and grins. "Well, can't blame you there. I've also got a serious knack for trying lots of new foods. It's like one of my few adventurous traits."
So I continue typing and then point at myself: 'Now this body, this life, that's me too, I guess. There isn't much good to tell about it, honestly. Both parents died in an Endbringer attack, or at least that's the official story they told me. Got thrown into an orphanage that didn't give a shit about any of us kids. Grew up seriously malnourished. I was a lot weaker back then. Smaller. Skinnier. Got picked on constantly because of it and other reasons. I felt pretty useless most of the time, like I was just taking up space. I only had a single friend in this entire miserable life, and because I was so pathetically weak and useless, she was taken away from me.'
"Wait, was she kidnapped or something?" Futaba innocently asks, her tone shifting to concern.
I just stare at her silently.
"Oh... oh shit... I'm sorry, Daniel. I didn't mean—I shouldn't have asked like that." She looks down.
I merely shake my head and let out a long sigh before typing again: 'Thinking about it coldly and objectively, this whole backstory makes a twisted kind of sense. The company basically said "fuck you, here's your tragic origin story" and crafted all these horrible events just so I could exist properly in this world with some sort of logical explanation. They still gave me all the trauma and pain that comes with that manufactured life though, which thanks to my defenses it doesn’t affect me. Yet it just sucks all around, which is why I try not to think about it too much.'
"Haven't you thought about going back to that high school and getting your justice?" she asks carefully. "Because everyone would be on your side now. You could punish everyone who caused you harm and harmed your old friend. You've got the power and influence to do it."
That question makes me pause for a long moment.
I remember the first promise I made when I woke up in that garbage heap after I tried to end my life. That I would do everything in my power to bring justice to the original Daniel, to make things right for what was done to him—to me.
And honestly? I haven't done much about that at all...
I need to look into it properly. Those bullies probably just picked a new target after I "disappeared," and I wouldn't be much of a hero if I didn't do anything to put an end to their actions and protect whoever they're tormenting now.
'I simply forgot about it with everything happening so fast and constantly. But I will look into it soon. I promise.'
Futaba reads it and nods slowly, her expression serious. "Yeah, I get that. It wouldn't be fair for those assholes to just get away with everything they did. Some people would say you need to move on and forget, focus on the future... but I totally get it if you want to do something about it. I'll support you either way, whatever you decide."
She takes another long sip of beer, then continues.
"But now it's my turn for sharing, I guess. I've already told you this, but whatever... I was pretty useless for a really long time too. Just existed in my room, drowning in my own head and self-hatred. Couldn't face the outside world, couldn't face other people. Genuinely thought I'd killed my mom through my own stupidity."
She stares out at the city lights with a distant expression.
"It took a lot to pull me out of that dark place. Good people who absolutely refused to give up on me, even when I'd completely given up on myself and wanted to die." She pauses, her voice getting softer. "And even though I've forgotten who my contractor was, like, their face and name are just gone from my memory, I still have all the memories of my friends and all those amazing moments we shared. Especially the time with Roll when I was teaching her how to play Mario Kart. Or the DnD sessions with everyone. I'll cherish those forever, even if they're incomplete now."
She takes another drink before continuing.
"We did so many insane things together, you know? Helped so many people, fought world-ending threats on like a weekly basis. If I wasn't helping fight some interdimensional ancient entity or avatars of forgotten gods trying to destroy reality, I was in my room playing improved versions of video games from my world. Yeah, that life was pretty crazy when you actually think about it."
She glances over at me with a slight smile.
"Sounds like you had your own kind of transformation too, just... way more literal and physical than mine was. Though I gotta say, the whole 'suddenly becoming an invincible superhero with semi-godlike powers' thing is probably way more immediately satisfying than months of therapy and confronting your literal inner demons in a cognitive palace. At least your transformation didn't involve fighting shadow versions of yourself." She laughs softly. "But hey, at least neither of us had to deal with the kind of inner demons from Silent Hill. That would've really sucked."
I can't help but chuckle at that comparison.
'Different ways but same results. Both are valid. You're pretty amazing now, you know that?'
"Damn right I am," she says with a confident grin, puffing out her chest proudly. "Genius hacker, master coordinator, Oracle of Brockton Bay! Fear my tactical brilliance!"
She sobers up a bit, her expression becoming more joyful.
"But seriously though... do you ever miss it? Your old-old life, I mean. The one before all of this, before you died and got isekai'd into this mess?"
I think about that question for a long moment, really considering it honestly.
So I take a decent time typing my response before showing it.
'I do miss it sometimes. Mostly I miss my family—my parents, my sister, the life we had together. But I know that I died in that world. Well, the original version of me that got yanked from that peaceful world definitely died, so my family will eventually move on and find happiness again. And that's okay with me, even if it hurts to think about. I still miss the simplicity of that life sometimes, when the biggest worry was just finishing your work on time or deciding what to have for dinner. But I won't let myself sulk or cry about what's gone. I've accepted this new life and all the responsibility that comes with it. This matters more now. These people need help, and I can actually provide it.'
"Yeah," Futaba says softly, her voice understanding. "Yeah, it does matter more. But hey, if you ever feel nostalgic or melancholic about it, just come visit me, 'kay? We can eat junk food and play video games and pretend the world isn't doomed for a few hours."
I give her a firm thumbs up.
She's quiet for a moment, just staring out at the city, then continues with a more serious tone.
"You know what's crazy? We're literally just getting started with all this heroic save-the-world stuff. Like, Lung was huge, pun totally intended, but he's just one minor problem in a world completely full of them. We've still got to deal with the Empire, though that shouldn't be too much of a problem now. Then there's Leviathan inevitably coming to attack the city at some point. The Slaughterhouse Nine are doing their murder road trip across the country and will definitely show up here eventually because this city attracts disasters. Behemoth randomly waking up to destroy whatever city he feels like. The other Endbringers we don't even know about yet. The Machine Army spreading in Pennsylvania. Nilbog in his little quarantine zone. The Simurgh just... existing and keeping humanity trapped on this one planet. And of course, there's Scion—that golden alien avatar thing that nobody really understands."
She counts off on her fingers as she lists the various existential threats, and honestly, it's pretty depressing when you lay it all out like that in one go.
"And that's not even getting into the smaller but still deadly stuff," she continues, really getting into it now. "The Fallen cult worshipping the Endbringers. The Teeth if they ever reorganize. Gesellschaft with their international Nazi network. The Blasphemies doing whatever horrible things they do although at least mitigated by the Knights of the Round Table. Whoever the hell Sleeper actually is—nobody seems to know and everyone's terrified to find out. The Yangban in China with their power-sharing nonsense. And god knows what other threats are lurking out here and there that we haven't even heard about yet because information control is so terrible in this world."
I nod slowly. It's daunting when you think about it all at once instead of just focusing on the immediate problems.
"But hey," Futaba continues, her tone brightening, "today was a really good start, right? A solid first step in the right direction. We proved we can actually do this; that we can plan, coordinate, and execute against major threats. And we're not fighting alone. We've got allies, resources, connections. That counts for a lot."
She turns to look directly at me, her expression sincere behind her glasses.
"Plus, you've got your whole 'unite the world through justice' thing going on, right? I mean, that's basically your endgame from what I can tell. Bring everyone together regardless of allegiance, defeat the big existential threats, save humanity from itself and from the Endbringers and from whatever the hell Scion's actual deal turns out to be."
I can't help but smile at that summary. She's right, that is basically the impossible goal I've set for myself, as absurdly ambitious as it sounds when said out loud.
I stand up, brushing sandwich crumbs off my costume, and strike a heroic pose with my fist raised dramatically toward the darkening sky.
"INDEED!" I boom, my voice carrying powerfully across the hillside and probably echoing for miles. "WITH THE UNSTOPPABLE POWER OF JUSTICE, WE SHALL UNITE THIS FRACTURED WORLD! HERO AND VILLAIN, NATION AND NATION, ALL SHALL STAND TOGETHER AGAINST THE FORCES OF THE EVIL DARKNESS! NO ENDBRINGER SHALL STAND BEFORE OUR COMBINED MIGHT! NO THREAT TOO GREAT TO OVERCOME WHEN RIGHTEOUSNESS UNITES US! FOR JUSTICE KNOWS NO BOUNDARIES, AND THE LIGHT OF HOPE SHALL PREVAIL OVER ALL GRIMM DARKNESS!"
Futaba starts giggling immediately at my dramatic declaration, then breaks into full-on laughter, nearly spilling what's left of her beer. "Oh my god, you're so ridiculously extra about everything! I absolutely love it! Never change!"
I hold the heroic pose for another few seconds to really commit to it before sitting back down, actually feeling pretty good about that declaration.
"Okay, okay," Futaba says, still grinning widely and wiping tears from her eyes. "But seriously, 'unite the world through justice'? That's some serious All Might energy right there. Very 'Symbol of Peace' vibes. Maximum inspiration points. I totally approve of this approach."
She raises her beer can toward me again in a toast.
"Here's to the incredibly long and dangerous road ahead. To fighting Endbringers and psychopaths and whatever else this completely screwed-up world throws at us. To somehow not dying horribly in the process. And to maybe, just maybe, actually pulling off your absolutely crazy plan to unite everyone under the banner of justice."
I grab my own can and clink it firmly against hers with a satisfying metallic sound.
"And hey," she adds with a mischievous grin, "at least we'll have some amazing stories to tell if we actually survive all this. 'Remember that time we buried a thirty-foot fire-breathing dragon in a mountain?' 'Oh yeah, that was just a Tuesday afternoon.' Good times, good times."
I nod in agreement, taking another drink and savoring the cold beer.
We saved the city after all.
If we can do that against impossible odds, then maybe we can do all the other impossible stuff too.
"So what's next on the agenda?" Futaba asks, settling back comfortably on the blanket. "I mean, after we take a few well-deserved days to recover and I catch up on all the intel and data we missed during the chaos. We've got some breathing room before Leviathan shows up to ruin everyone's day."
I rub my chin for a moment.
'Most immediate threats have been handled for now, which finally leaves me some actual time for myself. Time to train properly and systematically instead of just winging it. Build more meaningful connections with other heroes. Work on getting new power-ups and abilities. Save more people. The usual hero stuff.'
"Classic straightforward hero answer," she says with an approving smile. "I like it. Simple, direct, honest. Very you."
She yawns expansively and stretches her arms above her head. "Man, I am absolutely exhausted. Even though it's been a few days since everything went down, my brain still feels like complete mush. Too much stress build up."
'You did amazing work coordinating everything. Seriously, couldn't have done any of this without you.'
"I know, I know, I'm awesome," she says with exaggerated confidence, then her expression softens. "But thanks for saying it, anyway. It means a lot coming from you."
We sit there in comfortable silence for a while longer, finishing our beers and watching more stars gradually appear over Brockton Bay. The lights twinkling like everything's completely normal and safe. No fires, no explosions, no giant dragons rampaging through the streets and melting everything.
Just a city that got a second chance at survival, thanks to a lot of hard work from everyone who wants to help.
"You know," Futaba says quietly, her voice contemplative, "I actually think we might pull this off. This whole impossible 'saving the world' thing. It's gonna be hard as hell—probably the hardest thing either of us will ever do—and we're probably gonna nearly die like a hundred times before it's over, but... I think we can do it. We can actually save this fucked-up death world."
I look over at her and nod firmly, with absolute conviction. Because she's completely right. We can do this.
We have to do this.
For everyone down there in that city who deserves safety. For everyone else across the world who deserves a chance at something better than constant fear and death.
"Justice shall prevail!" I declare one more time, quieter and more personal this time, but no less sincere.
"Okay, my turn for dramatic declarations." She puts down her beer and stands up with sudden energy.
Futaba then strikes an exaggerated Kamen Rider transformation pose, legs spread and arms positioned dramatically. "FOR JUSTICE!" She moves her arms through the classic Kamen Rider motion with surprising accuracy. "HENSHIN!"
And absolutely nothing happens.
Except that she immediately bursts out laughing at her own ridiculousness, and I can't help but follow suit, laughing along with her and extending a hand to ruffle her hair.
The dumb, wonderful girl just returns to her seat still giggling uncontrollably and resumes eating her sandwich like nothing happened.
This might have been said before, but…
We're going to save this world.
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AN: This was a long chapter with lots of talking, took me a while.
Comments
Nayak
Absolute cinema, i love that Daniel is becoming the superman of this world, even Bane recognized it
Joe
There's a True Might waiting in the Sky
Uthalem
He mentioned a power up, I wonder what he is going to go for. I could see going further down the dragon tree to give others his blood for a power up, alternatively he could get a danmachi god template or something that gives others a power up. Outside of Scion he isn’t really needing more personal power to take care of any of the threats, especially with defenses to even the playing field of I win ability, but actually having people with the ability to help him in a meaningful way would be invaluable.
TravelerOfTime
It feels good to get a high dose of Hopium from this story after reading so many grimdark ones on the usual forums.
Doleful
Hmmm I hope the grimdark has sufficiently transitioned into a better genre because that was a ‘lot’ of flags. True Might’s shonen field should handle it, but I can’t help but worry. Still though, I love this chapter. Very feel good emotions and a perfect way to wrap up the arc. Looking forward to more
