The Symbol of Fear… the Nightmare himself.
Either he was unbelievably lucky—or terribly cursed. In less than a year, Raiden had come face-to-face with two of the most feared villains in all of Japan.
Because that was exactly what he was dealing with now.
This dream wasn't random. It was part of a Quirk—and from the looks of it, not even his psychic powers could pull him out. The fact that physical wounds carried over into the real world meant only one thing: Raiden was now trapped inside the ability of one of Japan's most dangerous villains—the unknown Symbol of Fear.
'This isn't going to be easy,' Mewtwo thought, scanning the surreal room around them. But his concern wasn't for himself. If the environment was designed to put him in danger, then Emi was at even greater risk. Her Quirk made her stronger than the average person, sure—but nowhere near the level needed to face a real villain.
And he couldn't just leave her behind. If more creatures appeared, she'd be defenseless. He had to keep her close—otherwise he'd be forced to hold back, constantly worried about her safety.
'Emi, how much worse does it get the farther we go?' he asked, his tone calm but firm.
"Each dream gets worse," she said. "The creatures are stronger, and more of them show up. But this time, there are already way more than usual."
'The entry?' Mewtwo repeated, catching the word she'd used.
"Yeah," Emi explained. "The strongest one always waits at the entrance of the house. When I reach the door and defeat it—or sometimes just get past it—I wake up. The last time, it was too strong to fight, so I just slipped through it and woke up anyway."
Her story was slightly different from the reports he'd heard about the Nightmare's victims. They all spoke of a single dream, not recurring ones. But when those victims were examined, their bodies showed injuries that were older—marks that couldn't have come from just one night.
If they had been trapped in multiple nightmares and only remembered the last, that would explain everything: the burns, the bruises, the deep psychological scars.
And now, standing inside this dream, Mewtwo finally understood why those people were so utterly terrified.
Yes—having the events of your dreams manifest in real life was terrifying, but not enough on its own to leave someone permanently broken. There had to be more to it. And if the Symbol of Fear's work went a step further than what anyone had imagined, then everything finally made sense.
It was a hypothesis the police had considered but never been able to prove.
The Symbol of Fear enjoyed leaving his victims alive—alive but shattered. That, more than anything, explained why Emi was still breathing. Mewtwo doubted that his own presence had caused the dream to "level up." It was more likely that the Nightmare himself had sensed a new intruder and adjusted the world accordingly—as if testing a new participant.
Still, there was another possibility—one that made Mewtwo uneasy. His psychic powers might have unconsciously pulled him into this space, making him part of the dream's structure. And if that was true, then the Nightmare had simply… adapted.
'Okay, let's move,' Mewtwo said, his tone low but focused. 'We need to see the rest of this place.'
He lifted Emi effortlessly with telekinesis, keeping her close beside him as they floated toward the bedroom door.
The moment they stepped into the hallway, even Mewtwo felt a chill crawl up his spine. The familiar, cozy space of Emi's house was gone. Now the corridor was alive. Every wall, every corner, and even the ceiling was covered with praying mantises—each one twice Mewtwo's size, their serrated limbs gleaming under the dim light.
Through his psychic link, he could feel Emi trembling in fear. Not wasting a second, he unleashed his power.
Dozens of stars of energy shot from his hands—Swift, cast in rapid succession. The glowing projectiles sliced through the swarm, cutting down mantis after mantis. In seconds, the hallway was littered with twitching bodies, their forms dissolving like mist.
They weren't strong. None of them were.
But as Mewtwo moved forward with Emi beside him, heading toward the staircase—now massive and distorted—something blurred past his face.
He reacted instantly, his instincts and training taking over. He dodged sideways, feeling a sharp gust cut the air where his head had been a heartbeat ago.
And in that flash of motion, he saw it clearly.
Mewtwo didn't panic. He narrowed his eyes and muttered under his breath, "You're just an overgrown bug."
With a sharp swing of his arm, he unleashed a Psycho Cut. A surge of violet energy burst from his hand, forming a crescent-shaped arc that rushed straight toward the mantis. The creature crossed its bladed forearms in an X, meeting the attack head-on.
The impact sent out a burst of light and pressure that rippled through the hallway.
Mewtwo blinked in mild surprise. This was the first enemy to block one of his attacks. Until now, everything had fallen effortlessly—mere oversized insects. The fact that this one had stopped his strike meant things were escalating faster than expected.
Without hesitation, he launched two more Psycho Cuts in quick succession. The first collided with the mantis's crossed blades again, shaking the creature to its core. The second strike, following just a fraction of a second later, broke through its defense completely, cleaving the insect cleanly in two.
The two halves fell apart, dissolving slowly into the misty floor beneath them.
Mewtwo waited a moment, scanning for movement, making absolutely sure it was dead before stepping forward toward the stairway.
As he and Emi descended, more creatures appeared—different types of giant insects, each larger and stronger than the last. But one after another, they fell before him. To Mewtwo, it was almost routine—quick, efficient, and methodical.
Beside him, Emi could only watch in awe. She knew heroes were powerful, but witnessing it firsthand—seeing Raiden handle monsters like this—was overwhelming. For a fleeting second, a thought crossed her mind: What if I had applied to U.A. when he did? Would I have been able to grow that strong, too?
But deep down, she knew the answer. Fighting didn't call to her the way it did to him. Her life followed a different path—and she was fine with that.
When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, two new figures blocked their way.
These ones were different.
They were humanoid—towering shapes with the bodies of men but the features of beetles. One had the heavy frame and horned crest of a Hercules beetle, the other the thick, armored shell of a dung beetle. Their presence radiated power.
They looked smarter, faster, more coordinated—and far more aggressive.
Mewtwo didn't even have time to prepare. In an instant, both beetle creatures lunged at him, moving with a speed that shattered the tiles where they'd been standing. The floor cracked under the pressure of their takeoff.
In the blink of an eye, they were right in front of him—combining insect strength with human agility.
Mewtwo didn't hesitate. In a split second, he activated Agility, and his speed skyrocketed.
He became a blur.
Dodging the beetles' physical attacks was almost effortless—his movements sharp, fluid, precise. To Emi, the entire scene looked surreal: she couldn't even follow him with her eyes. The hallway exploded with motion, filled with streaks of light and echoing shockwaves as the three figures clashed at impossible speed.
The battle tore through the dreamlike house, the walls cracking, the floor shaking.
Then it happened. One of the beetles redirected its attack toward Emi.
Before she could even react, Mewtwo was there—his tail glowing bright white as it whipped forward, intercepting the blow midair. The impact sent one of the beetles flying backward, smashing through the floorboards and carving a path of destruction across the room.
Emi saw his expression change—his usual calm replaced by a sharp, focused fury.
With a low growl, Mewtwo raised his hands. Two Shadow Balls materialized, swirling with dense, black energy. He hurled one at each beetle. Both spheres exploded on impact, shaking the room, but when the dust settled, the insects were still standing—barely scratched.
But Mewtwo hadn't meant to finish them. That was only a distraction.
The instant the smoke cleared, he flicked his wrist. A storm of Swift projectiles—glowing shards of energy—rained down on the Hercules beetle, forcing it to defend. At the same time, he shot upward at blinding speed toward the second beetle.
His hand touched the creature's thick neck—and with one fluid motion, he unleashed Psycho Cut. The blade of psychic energy flashed once, and the beetle's head separated cleanly from its body. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
Without pausing, Mewtwo turned and dashed toward the Hercules beetle. Another Shadow Ball charged in his palms, dense and pulsing with destructive force. He closed the distance and fired at point-blank range, the explosion blasting the insect backward across the hall.
But Mewtwo wasn't done.
He brought both hands together, energy flaring between his palms. The air shimmered, heat radiating outward. When the beetle roared and lunged at him one final time, Mewtwo released the attack.
A wave of searing flames consumed the creature. The beetle's screech echoed through the house, cut short as its body turned to ash—leaving nothing but a charred leg behind.
Breathing softly, Mewtwo lowered his arms. The fight was over.
Only the door remained—the final threshold between them and escape.
He turned to Emi, lifted her gently with telekinesis, and floated toward it. But before his hand could touch the handle, a voice echoed through the dream—deep, distorted, and chilling.
It froze Mewtwo where he stood.
"NOTHING IS FINE… BECAUSE I'M HEREEEE!"
The sound crawled into his mind, twisting through every nerve.
And in that instant, Mewtwo understood—he was about to face one of his greatest fears.