Crane's Wings Underground Facility - Surgical Wing -
Silver stood in William's surgical theater, surrounded by the organized chaos of body modification in progress.
The room was pristine despite the horrific nature of the work, William stood at the primary operating table, his hands moving with that impossible precision his Quirk granted, currently in the process of extracting useful biological material from a captive strapped to the table.
The man was screaming despite the sedatives as he was not quite given enough to render him unconscious, she suspected this was something William enjoyed while he worked…
Silver had been assigned to assist William's team with his current projects and she was helping him create weapons from people with applicable Quirks.
She remembered back to when she joined Cranes Wings and how this was the fate for her former classmates but now seeing it up close It was, she had to admit, creative in a deeply disturbing way.
Over the past week, they'd already produced:
Knives forged from the bones of a man whose Quirk allowed him to generate blade-like bone protrusions undetectable under any metal detector or scanner, Armor plating harvested from someone with a stone-skin mutation quirk, A whip made from the spine and nervous tissue of a woman with an elasticity Quirk she had no clue why make this but was told a certain cat burglar might buy it off them.
Today's project involved creating a biological sound bomb using the lungs and vocal cords of a captive with a sonic scream Quirk.
Similar to hers…
Silver was disappointed to be assigned here. She'd joined Crane's Wings and had not looked back, easily able to work with the others from the normal… normalish members like Basil and Jaina to the monsters like Waylon or Ivy, she even got along good with Crane.
Instead of working with literally anyone else, she was playing surgical assistant to a mad sadistic "surgeon" with a cheerful disposition and absolutely no empathy.
She watched William work, watching him cut with disturbing precision, extracting organs while keeping the victim alive through a combination of his Quirk and medical techniques.
Silver had faced down heroes, fought gang members, killed people when ordered too. None of that bothered her particularly.
But William... William was different.
It gave her the creeps in a way nothing else in this place did.
"Silver," William said, his voice carrying through his surgical mask with that unsettling good cheer. "The left lung, please. Carefully, we need it intact."
She reached into the open chest cavity with gloved hands, feeling the warm slickness of exposed organs, the slight movement as the victim's remaining functional lung continued struggling to breathe.
She extracted the lung carefully and placed it on a sterile tray next to the other components they'd already harvested.
"Excellent work," William said, genuinely pleased. "You have steady hands. Have you considered asking Crane to work down here more often?"
Silver rolled her eyes. "I'll pass."
"Shame," William replied,
He then also extracted the mans vocal cords with a final precise cut and placed them on the tray next to the lungs.
"There we are," he announced, stepping back from the table. "Silver, please dispose of the "donor" he's served his purpose."
Silver looked at the man on the table
"Dispose how?" she asked.
"Ivy keeps telling me she wants food for her carnivorous plants," William said with a shrug. "Or just dump him in the sewer, ocean, hell the street even, I don't care"
Silver started wheeling the body out of the room deciding what to do.
Behind her, she could hear William already preparing for the next subject, whistling cheerfully as he cleaned his tools.
She'd faced a lot of disturbing things in her young criminal career.
But working for William was definitely at the top of the list.
At least Crane was paying her good.
Crane's Wings Underground Facility - Lower Expansion Levels - Same Time
The lowest levels of the facility were still under construction, tunnels being carved out, support structures being installed, electrical and plumbing systems being extended into the new sections.
Grundy and Waylon worked down here frequently, their enhanced strength making them ideal for the heavy labor that normal drone workers couldn't manage.
However, today, they were supposed to be practicing combat techniques, Crane had suggested that Waylon teach Grundy some basic fighting skills beyond just "hit things really hard."
"Alright, big guy," Waylon growled, voice low and rough. "No more friendly play, today we work on takedowns. When you're fighting heroes or rivals one on one, you end it fast."
Grundy nodded eagerly, fists clenched at his sides. "Grundy ready. Grundy strong."
Waylon snorted. "Strength ain't enough if you swing like a drunk."
He lunged forward with surprising speed for his size, closing the distance in two powerful strides. Instead of a wild punch, he dropped low, slammed his shoulder into Grundy's midsection, and used his momentum to drive the giant off-balance. Before Grundy could recover, Waylon hooked one clawed hand behind the bigger man's knee and yanked hard.
Grundy toppled like a felled tree, crashing onto the concrete with a boom that shook dust from the ceiling.
"See that?" Waylon said, stepping back. "Don't just hit 'em, unbalance 'em first, use their own weight against 'em. Then finish it while they're down."
They went back and forth for nearly twenty minutes, Grundy improving with every repetition, his raw power slowly gaining crude technique. Waylon found himself actually enjoying the session. Grundy was simple, sure but he was loyal, eager, and didn't complain or make excuses. That was more than Waylon could say for most of the cutthroat assholes he'd worked with over the years.
"This time try to—"
He froze mid-sentence.
His enhanced hearing, far sharper than any normal humans, picked up voices echoing faintly.
Grundy tilted his head, noticing the sudden change. "Waylon hear something?"
"Yeah…" Killer Croc's eyes narrowed, teeth baring in a low snarl. "Let's see who's stupid enough to wander down here."
They moved through the tunnels toward the sound, Waylon's predatory instincts sharpening as he identified potential prey.
They found them in one of the newly excavated sections, a group of six people, wearing caving gear and carrying equipment, clearly explorers who'd followed some ancient sewer system into the facility's expansion zone.
One of them had a camera. Another was taking measurements. They were documenting the tunnels, probably thinking they'd discovered some secret historical construction project that was covered up or forgotten.
Instead, they'd found the newest expansion of Crane's Wings' underground network.
The explorers saw Waylon and Grundy emerge from the shadows
"Oh shit—"
Waylon caught the first one with his jaws, the satisfying crunch of bones breaking as he bit down. Warm blood filled his mouth as he shook his head violently, tearing the victim apart.
Grundy grabbed another explorer with massive hands, lifting the screaming man off the ground and pulling his arms off at the shoulders with wet tearing sounds, the torso dropping to the ground as Grundy looked confused about why the person had come apart so easily.
Waylon laughed, his claws slicing another fleeing explorer to death. "Kill them all."
The next few minutes were carnage.
When the last explorer stopped moving, crushed against a tunnel wall by Grundy's casual backhand, Waylon looked at the aftermath with satisfaction.
"Good work," he said, blood dripping from his jaws.
"Grundy learn from Waylon" Grundy announced proudly, holding up a severed head like a trophy.
Crane's Wings Underground Facility - Armory - Same Time
Roman Sionis stood in the facility's main armory, surrounded by fifteen men who'd worked with him during his previous operations, he managed to sway the best of his crew so far to join him and leave the Falcones
Now they stood in Crane's Wings' armory, examining the equipment with obvious appreciation.
The room was impressive, racks of firearms ranging from standard pistols to military-grade assault weapons, explosive devices arranged in secured containers, body armor in various styles and levels of protection, specialized equipment for specific operations.
"Holy shit, Roman," one of his men, a scarred enforcer named Marcus said, examining a modified rifle with obvious expertise. "This is serious hardware. Where'd your new boss get all this?"
Another of his crew, a demolitions expert named Santos was examining the explosive devices with the careful attention of someone who genuinely understood chemistry. "These are not the kind of shit you can just buy on the black market. Your boss either has serious connections or makes this stuff himself."
"Crane's well connected," Roman replied. "He has good relations with Bane's organization and we know Bane can get his hands on anything"
A Jaina duplicate entered the room interrupting, carrying a case filled with cash. Several of Roman's crew flinched at her sudden appearance, hands moving toward weapons before they recognized she wasn't a threat.
"Gentlemen," the duplicate said with a professional smile. "Your first month's payment, as agreed. Twenty percent above your previous Falcone wages, with performance bonuses available for successful operations."
She distributed envelopes to each man, thick packets of bills that represented more money than most of them had seen in months of Falcone employment.
Marcus opened his envelope and whistled. "Damn. This is real?"
"Count it," the duplicate suggested. "Crane pays fairly. Work hard, follow orders, and most importantly don't betray him, and you'll be compensated accordingly."
The men counted their money with obvious satisfaction, the reality of their improved situation sinking in.
The Jaina duplicate completed her deliveries and then simply... evaporated into dust, her form dissolving like smoke.
Several of the crew members stared at the space where she'd been standing.
"What the fuck was that?" Santos asked.
"Clone," Roman explained. "She's got a duplication Quirk. Makes copies of herself, sends them out for various tasks, then dismisses them when they're done. You'll get used to it."
"That's disturbing as hell," Marcus said.
"Trust me that's nothing compared to what I've seen…"
Crane's Wings Underground Facility - Recreation Room #7 - Same Time
Jaina's primary form stood at a pool table, lining up her shot with practiced precision. Across from her, Basil maintained his normal form; he had been able to start maintaining it longer with something that Crane and William were giving him but it was not a permanent fix yet.
They'd fallen into an unexpected friendship over the past few weeks. Both were shapeshifters in different ways—Jaina creating duplicates, Basil transforming his entire body.
"Corner pocket," Jaina called, indicating her target.
Basil watched as she took the shot and the ball arcing perfectly to sink exactly where she'd predicted.
"You're good at this," he said with genuine appreciation.
"Years of practice," Jaina replied, moving around the table to line up her next shot. "Duplicates are great for practicing I can do it at any time"
"Must be convenient," Basil observed.
Jaina paused mid-shot, looking up at him with a sly smile. "You know what else would be convenient? If you could make clones too."
Basil blinked, clearly not having considered that possibility. "I... don't think my Quirk works that way. I can become anyone, but I can't split myself into multiple entities I dont even know how I could do that."
"Shame,"
Jaina took the winning shot, sinking the eight ball with casual precision.
"And that's game," she announced,
"Best two out of three?"
"You're on," Jaina agreed, her duplicate bodies throughout the facility continuing their various tasks while her primary form enjoyed genuine social interaction.
Somewhere in Yokohama, Japan - 10:28 PM (Same as Gotham 9:28 AM)
The battle had reached its climax.
All Might stood in his barely-maintained muscle form, skeletal thin, blood streaming from multiple injuries, his costume shredded, but still standing.
All For One faced him, equally damaged, his Quirk-enhanced body sustaining injuries that should have killed a normal person.
Around them, Kamino Ward lay in ruins, buildings collapsed, streets cratered, fires burning unchecked.
And watching from around the world, millions of people witnessed the Symbol of Peace fighting for his life.
"UNITED STATES OF SMASH!"
The final attack
everything All Might had left, all of One For All's accumulated power, all the hope and determination and desperate need to win channeled into a single devastating punch.
The impact was visible from space.
The shockwave flattened everything within a mile radius.
And when the dust settled, All For One lay defeated, unconscious, broken.
All Might stood over him, victorious but clearly at his absolute limit. His muscle form flickered, struggling to maintain itself, blood pouring from injuries that would have killed lesser heroes.
But he was standing.
The Symbol of Peace had won.
Crane's Wings Underground Facility - Crane and Ivy's Private Quarters - Same Time (Gotham: 9:31 AM)
Suguro and Ivy lounged on a couch together, Ivy curled against Suguro's side with vines wrapped loosely around both of them but he did not reject it.
The large screen on the wall showed multiple news feeds, Gotham local news on one section, international feeds on others.
They'd been watching with passive interest when the Japanese news feed suddenly escalated, showing aerial footage of massive destruction in Yokohama.
"Turn that up," Suguro said, his attention immediately focusing.
Ivy used a vine to manipulate the remote, increasing the volume on the Japanese feed.
The news anchor's voice came through, speaking rapidly in Japanese with English subtitles appearing at the bottom:
The footage showed the final moments of the fight, All Might's skeletal form barely maintaining his muscle appearance, the unknown villain was in an equally damaged state, the buildup to that final devastating attack.
They watched as All Might delivered his ultimate attack, the force of it visible even through the camera's distant perspective, the shockwave distorting the air itself.
Ivy stood completely now, her full attention on the screen. "did that ugly villain just lose?"
Then the camera angle shifted, showing All Might's form as his muscle appearance finally failed.
All Might had won, but at tremendous cost, this victory had put him into retirement he had nothing left.
Japan's hero society was about to undergo massive changes but Gotham would barely notice, too consumed with its own chaos to care about Japanese hero politics.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
"I'm thinking," Suguro replied, "that All Might's retirement is imminent, and that Japan's hero society is about to experience the same kind of destabilization Gotham has lived with for years. That the one man who has kept villain activity suppressed there is gone."
They turned their attention back to the screen, watching as Japanese news coverage showed the aftermath of the battle, All Might giving some weird speech pointing at the cameras, the defeated villain being secured in what looked like specialized villain containment or what the subtitles called the maiden, and heroes coordinating rescue operations throughout the destroyed ward.
He then wondered if this had anything to do with Garaki being late calling them..