Saitama dusk always feels slower.
KD walked beside Rin, hands in his pockets, letting the street noise roll past like background music. The market smelled like cheap ramen and car wax. Rain had passed earlier, so the pavement still reflected storefront signs in pale reds and sickly blues.
They were supposed to be checking on the soup kitchen, one of the Eighth Coil's "community projects." KD had helped lay the warding lines himself. Rin had coded the entry matrix. It fed a lot of people. Kept things steady. Kept the Coil looking clean in public.
It was also an obvious target.
The Whisperfang Ring pulsed at KD's wrist.
A message. No sound. Just the sensation of someone whispering too close behind his ear.
He stopped walking.
Rin looked at him, eyebrow raised.
He met her eyes. "They're hitting the kitchen."
She didn't need to ask who. Her fists clenched. "Yoruganome."
KD lit his right hand on instinct. Flames curled around his fingers, humming low.
They moved.
…
They landed half a block away, using one of Rin's flash tunnels. The reinforced barriers around the kitchen were already scorched. Smoke billowed from inside. Shouts echoed. Screams. Something cracked, wood or bone, hard to tell.
KD didn't wait.
He kicked the doors in and walked through the fire.
Inside, it was chaos. Volunteers scattered. A table was flipped. Shelves smoldered. Two figures stood in the center like war statues.
The first was a woman. Tall, thin, draped in black robes inked with subtle swirling patterns. Her face was calm. Detached. Ink trailed down her arms, still moving like liquid. Junko Aizawa — the Needlewitch.
The second was quiet, still, but pulsing with heat. Hisashi. The Flame. His bare arms were covered in ash and ritual scarring. Phoenix wings curled up his biceps, glowing with heat.
KD didn't hesitate.
He launched forward and drove a burst of flame straight at Hisashi's chest.
The man didn't block. He took the hit full-on and smiled through the pain. Fire spread across his chest, but instead of flinching, he raised his hands, one palm blue, one orange, and clapped them together.
A shockwave knocked KD back through a counter.
Rin blinked in beside him and raised a barrier just as Junko's ink snaked across the floor like living wires.
KD got up, blood in his mouth, and grinned.
"Your boyfriend hits like a train."
"He's not my boyfriend," Rin muttered, already shifting the barrier forward like a shield wall.
KD lit both arms and charged again.
He met Hisashi in the center of the room.
They traded blows. Hisashi was fast, disciplined. Every strike burned in weird ways, not just pain but purification. KD dodged a sweep, spun, and caught him in the ribs with a rising flame kick. Hisashi twisted through it, rolled, and came back with a burning shoulder charge.
KD slammed into the wall, laughter leaving his throat like gravel.
"You're fun," he said.
Hisashi didn't smile. "You're in the way."
Junko raised her hand. The ink exploded into a thousand tendrils, aiming for the volunteers trapped near the back wall.
Rin's hands blurred. She weaved a hexagonal trap and slammed it down over the civilians. The ink struck her barrier and hissed.
"I am so tired of this old-world posturing," Rin muttered.
Junko tilted her head. "Your tattoos do not speak. They are silent. Empty. That offends me."
"I'll cry about it later," Rin replied.
Junko raised her other hand and the ink surged up toward the ceiling, forming a clawed shape that tore straight down.
Rin split the space in front of her with two fingers. A shield popped into place. The ink hit and splintered against invisible geometry.
KD and Hisashi fought through the middle of it all. Fire clashed with fire. KD's Rasensurge built in his palm, spinning with fury.
Hisashi's flames turned blue and wrapped around his arms like molten silk. He threw a punch that split the air.
KD met it head-on.
The collision blasted the floor open.
Both men were flung back. KD slid across broken tile and coughed out smoke. Hisashi knelt, one knee down, burns creeping up his arms. Healing, yes, but slower than before.
"Getting tired?" KD asked, wiping his mouth.
Hisashi's eyes burned hotter.
"No," he said.
Junko's ink claw reformed. Rin narrowed her stance, pulled her hands into a diamond shape, and twisted the air in front of her. A pressure field caught the attack and reversed it, slamming it back toward Junko like a whip.
She smiled.
"Ink learns," she whispered. It dissolved before it hit her.
KD stood again.
"We're dragging this out," he muttered to Rin.
She didn't respond. Just nodded once.
KD summoned flame into both hands and channeled Rasensurge into a condensed spiral between his palms. He drew his arm back.
Junko's eyes widened.
Hisashi stepped forward to block.
Too late.
KD launched the Rasensurge.
The blast ripped through the air like a rocket, wrapped in fire and pressure. It collided with Hisashi's chest and sent him flying through the far wall.
KD turned to Rin. "You good?"
"Better than them," she said, sweat running down her temple. She was already forming a trap net in the floor.
But the fight didn't continue.
Junko moved to Hisashi's side. He was rising, burnt, jaw set, still breathing.
She touched his shoulder.
"That's enough," she said.
He didn't argue.
They turned. KD stepped forward, but Junko's ink formed a solid wall between them. She glanced back once.
"You borrowed power," she said. "We create ours."
KD blinked.
"You don't know anything about us."
Junko's smile was thin.
"That is the problem."
They vanished into black ink, like smoke pulled back into a scroll.
Rin dropped her stance. KD exhaled. The flames on his hands flickered out.
The soup kitchen was wrecked but still standing.
Then, behind them, a quiet pulse.
Timothy stepped through a portal, coat unruffled. His eyes moved across the damage without expression. He looked at KD.
"Report," he said.
KD wiped soot from his cheek.
"They sent a message."
Rin added, "And we returned it."
Timothy nodded once. Then turned toward the ruined tables.
"Rebuild it. Better this time."
KD smiled.
"I'll bring the fireproof walls."
<><><><><><><>
After tending to the wounded, I moved through the street like I belonged there. The smoke was fading. Firelight still clung to the edges of the damage, but no one was crying anymore. The fear had passed. What was left was pain. Exhaustion. Hope.
I handed out healing potions where they were needed. A cracked rib here. A bruised shoulder. Minor burns along the arms of a boy who had pulled his sister from the wreckage. He did not ask questions when the potion glowed blue in his hand. He just nodded and whispered thank you.
When the last of them were stable, I called in the Inkveil.
A silent unit. Faces blurred with light enchantments, movements wrapped in stillness. They scattered through the neighborhood like shadows under rain. Their job was clean and efficient. Confundus where memories were fragile. Obliviate when necessary.
Some Heroes had begun poking around already. Curious. Not hostile, but curious is enough.
This is my turf now. My city. My people. That means their safety is my responsibility. Not just against villains, but against the systems that forget them.
I could teleport to Gunma right now and end the conversation. I could level their compound, scatter their inner circle, and be home for breakfast.
But I am trying something different.
I still have months before canon starts. Months to explore this world with patience, not force. I have the power to crush the top of the pyramid, but if I do that too early, what lesson is left?
It is not about power.
It is about what I choose to do with it.
Merlin's abilities give me more than spells. They give me control. Knowledge. A subtle architecture of magic that responds to will instead of wandwork. I built the portal system around the control room with that in mind.
To everyone else, the system runs on a specific item. A shard. A relic. A key that only I hold.
That is the lie.
Only my clones know the truth. That the portals bend because I told the rules to kneel.
They limit themselves like I do. Their powers are immense, but they choose precision over spectacle. Now and then I let them go wild. They enjoy it. This world does not know what to make of five quiet storms in matching suits.
Let them play.
Rin has started anchoring herself here. Tanaka too, in his own way. Izuku… he might build something real. If I do not stay, at least I will leave behind good bones.
I tap the Whisperfang Ring. A gentle pulse.
Time to meet.
I walk the path to the main house slowly. The stones underfoot glow faintly from the enchantments I left embedded there. The grass sways even though there is no wind. The silence is not empty — it is held.
Inside, the house feels calm. The warded walls muffle the outside noise. It smells faintly of tea and wood polish. I pass through the halls, boots soundless on the stone.
I reach the living room. The light is low. My chair is waiting.
I sit.
The interface glows to life beside me. I scan messages. One stands out. A ping from Bait.
Recruitment successful.
Good.
But until I mark her, she stays out of the Control Room. That is the rule. Everyone follows it, even me. The mark is not just a tattoo. It is a promise. A contract. An anchor.
Himiko Toga may be unpredictable, but she responded to Bait's offer. That means something.
She wants to be seen.
And here, if she stays, she will be.
I lean back and let the magic settle.
Outside, the clones move like ghosts across rooftops. Inside, the house is quiet.
Soon the others will arrive.
Soon I will give them their next move.
But for now, I let myself breathe. Just for a minute. Not as a commander. Not as a manipulator of fate.
The living room is quiet.
The fire in the hearth cracks faintly, casting warm shadows across the polished floor. My ring glows green once, then stills. The clone butler exits with Toga. No more interruptions.
I sit alone in the high-backed chair that anchors this room. My hand drifts toward the interface crystal beside me, not with haste, but reverence. A breath in. A breath out.
Two hundred and five points.
Focused Astral Pull.
The gacha machine hums to life. Not just a screen. Not just a click. The magic here listens. It responds. Ten orbs float up from the void like stars being born in slow motion. They shimmer in deep color, rotating gently, each one pulsing with a different resonance.
When I open them, the room fills with light.
The first explodes into gold, revealing a swirling vault door — curved blades, jeweled spears, weapons I do not yet know by name — floating in a ring. The Gate of Babylon. My own armory, now.
The next releases a woman in red — sharp eyes, sharper smirk — Faye Valentine. Con artist. Sharpshooter. Not summoned, but her essence flickers. Skills. Reflexes. Charisma encoded.
The third glows white. A sense of pressure forms. I feel movement before it happens. The air itself leans toward me. Observation Haki. The world's intent is now mine to read.
Then a flash of emerald. The orb cracks like an egg, and a familiar shape hovers midair. Silver watch-face. Green trim. Alien icons shifting endlessly.
The Omnitrix.
My heart skips. A device that can rewrite biology. Ten lives in one. Ten species. Ten strategies. My fingers hover over the projection before I pull it gently into my inventory.
Next, a flickering whip of shadowy light lashes toward the ceiling before vanishing. Black energy tendrils. Blackwhip, intermediate form. Grapples. Restraints. A mobility enhancer that will make me nearly impossible to pin down.
A small, unassuming dice floats up next. But I feel the tension inside it. One roll. One miracle. The Infinity Dice. It hums with restrained possibility. I store it gently.
A gust of wind moves through the room. The orb opens and I am across the room before I realize I moved. Shunpo. Flash Step. Movement now answers to will.
The next light bursts in a bloom of blood and silver. A woman with a shotgun, scars across her jaw, eyes hard and clear. Elsa Bloodstone. A hunter of monsters. Her tenacity sits now in my memory like a coiled blade.
A pulse of light reveals a blade — blue, crackling, elegant. A replica of the Z-Saber. Meant for those who move with speed and precision. I can already feel how it will pair with Blinkstep and Phantom Slash.
The final orb cracks into pale threads. They dangle from the ceiling, wrapping gently around my wrist. Chakra Threads. A support ability. Fine control. Subtle. Clever.
I exhale. Ten pulls. Ten tools. Ten pieces of potential.
But I am not done.
I reach into my pocket and draw the Infinity Dice. It feels cool and dense, but warm where it touches skin. I whisper nothing, just flick it into the air.
It spins.
Once. Twice. Light pours from each surface as it slows.
Then, silence.
I roll again.
The second set begins.
One orb opens into a blade of legend. Simple. Gleaming. Holy. The Master Sword, in its blessed state. I do not even touch it. I simply bow my head as it joins me.
Then a streak of thunder. A hammer crashes through the air and hovers — heavy with judgment. Mjölnir. I cannot lift it yet. That is the point.
Next, light bends into the shape of a key. White and gold. Soft and radiant. Oathkeeper. A Keyblade that strengthens magic and heart alike.
Then a wand rises from the orb, slowly spinning. Its power vibrates through the air itself. Elder wood. Thestral core. Unbeaten. Unbending. The Elder Wand. It knows me. That is enough.
A silver medallion clinks against my palm. It vibrates faintly, like a heartbeat. The Witcher Medallion. It will warn me when monsters are near. It does not care about reputation. Only truth.
Another orb blooms into six glowing stones set in dark metal. I feel space tighten. Time slow. The weight of it is heavy, even dampened. The Infinity Gauntlet. Not whole, not limitless. But dangerous still.
Then a piece of armor — wooden grain, ancient markings. The Shodai Kote. First Hokage's bracer. A gift of nature. I can feel it sync with my healing traits already.
The next orb does not open. It unfolds. A horizon. Blades rise across sand. Sky cracks into steel. Unlimited Blade Works, sealed in seed form. Five minutes of a world that answers only to me.
A high-tech core floats next. Cold and perfect. Capable of powering shields, weapons, stealth. Nano-Fusion Drive Core. I will build around it. Its applications are endless.
The final orb opens into runed cloth. Soft. Unyielding. The Arcanite Bracers of Eternity. My magic will never be the same.
I lean back in the chair.
Everything slows.
Not because I am tired. Because I am overwhelmed.
Not with fear.
With awe.
I carry a vault of weapons that fire themselves. I hold a wand that does not miss. I can step through the air without touching the ground. My body can become anything. My mind sees what others plan before they move. My soul is wrapped in light, steel, magic, and myth.
I make three of the items invisible and absorb them. The medallion. The bracers. The wand. I feel their effects begin to root. I make them invisible to the eyes of others.
I should feel proud. I should feel powerful.
Instead, I feel quiet.
This is more than power. This is possibility.
Too much, perhaps. But I will bank the rest. I have enough for now. More than enough.
I sense them before they arrive.
They arrive one at a time, the same way they always do.
Tanaka walks in first. Quiet, broad-shouldered, protective as ever. He hovers near Rin, eyes flicking from her to the floor, then back to me. He never says much during these briefings, but he never misses anything either. Pride sits on his face like a weight he carries without complaint.
Shadow slides in next, half-formed, half-visible, presence coiling around the edges of the room. A nod. That is all.
Slip phases in with a flicker of motion and lands in his usual spot near the map wall. His visor drops low. Cage follows, spinning a pen between his fingers. His suit is wrinkled, his tie is missing, and his energy feels like someone strung chaos into human shape. Normal.
Then Bait enters.
Behind him steps Himiko Toga.
She walks like someone expecting a trap.
Her eyes dart across the room, lingering on everyone for one second longer than comfort allows. She is dressed in her usual layered uniform, blade strapped discreetly to her thigh. Not hidden. Just... acknowledged.
She stares at the ceiling, then at the wall, then finally at me.
"Do I have to wear a suit too?" she asks.
Her tone is neutral, not sarcastic. Testing the air, not mocking it.
I smile. "Yes. But it can be your own. Add your flavor. Cage wears three different socks and nobody's said a word."
Cage raises a hand. "Correction. I said a word. I said freedom."
Toga glances at him. Blinks once. Then tilts her head.
"Is he always like that?"
"Every hour," Rin says dryly.
Toga looks back at me. "So what is this, then? A club? A cult? A theater group with knives?"
"A family," I say.
She does not scoff.
I gesture toward the room. "Everyone here earned their place. You will too. You do not need to act different. You do not need to prove anything right now."
She shifts her weight, crosses her arms.
"I already proved something. I'm still breathing."
"Then you're halfway there."
The air stays quiet. Not heavy, but thoughtful.
I gesture toward the hallway. My clone butler appears, bowing silently.
"He will show you the compound. You'll have a room. Some areas are off-limits until you receive your mark. When that happens, you will be one of us."
Toga follows the butler. She does not speak again before leaving. But I catch it. A small pause at the door. A glance over her shoulder.
It is not hesitation.
It is hope.
When the door closes, I turn back to the others.
"Yoruganome has made their move. Civilians were harmed. A sanctuary was attacked. They did this not to gain territory, but to send a message."
I let that sit.
"We will respond."
The room remains still.
Then I turn to Izuku.
"Izuku," I say gently. "There will be blood. Maybe deaths. These are not good people. You have read the reports. You have seen the images. What they did to civilians. What they did to Pro Heroes who spoke out."
His eyes flicker. His fingers tighten against his palm.
"I won't kill," he says quietly. "But I will not stop you from doing what you think is best."
I nod.
"I trust you," he says. The words are stronger the second time.
And for a moment, I believe him completely.
He stands beside Rin now, not behind her. Not hiding. His spine is straighter. His voice does not shake. He chose like she did. I respect that.
"You have proven yourself," I say. "You are ready."
He blinks. "Ready for what?"
Rin does not answer. She grins.
And that grin means more than any words I could give him.
He will understand soon.