Morning light filtered through the massive hole in the east wall, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. The apartment was a disaster zone. It looked less like a home and more like a bomb testing site that someone had tried to fix with duct tape.
Saitama stood in the center of the ruin, holding a piece of toast. He stared at the pile of debris that used to be his balcony.
"Genos," he said, munching the toast. "I think we're gonna lose the security deposit."
Genos, who was currently scanning the structural integrity of the ceiling beams, nodded solemnly. "I have calculated the repair costs, Sensei. It exceeds our current liquid assets by 400%. However, if we sell the wreckage of the bathtub as 'Modern Art: Post-Heroic Struggle,' we might recoup 2%."
"Great," Saitama sighed. "Just great."
He turned to the corner of the room. Huddled in a blanket on the floor, surrounded by empty instant noodle cups, was Shadow-san. The interdimensional doppelganger looked terrible. His grey skin was sallow, his eyes were sunken, and he radiated an aura of gloom so thick it was making the wallpaper peel.
"Hey," Saitama nudged him with his foot. "Wake up. We're going to the hardware store. You need to carry the lumber."
Shadow-san blinked open one dark, bruised eye. "Lumber? In my world, the forests were burned to ash by the heat rays of the Cyber-Demons. There is no wood. Only char."
"Yeah, well, in this world, Home Depot has a sale on two-by-fours," Saitama said. "Get up. And put this on."
He tossed a plastic bag at Shadow-san. Inside was a brightly colored, spiky orange wig. It looked like something a clown would wear to a rave.
Shadow-san held it up, trembling. "What... is this?"
"It's a disguise," Saitama explained. "You look exactly like me, but darker and depressy-er. People are gonna freak out if they see two of us. Put the wig on. Tell people you're my cousin form... uh... the south."
"From the south?" Shadow-san whispered. "Is the south a land of torment?"
"Sometimes, during humidity season," Saitama shrugged. "Let's go."
Meanwhile, the mood at the Blizzard Group's temporary command post—a rented office space in City Z—was electric with panic.
Fubuki paced in front of a whiteboard covered in photos and red string. She hadn't slept. The fifty million yen windfall was nice, but the data from the stolen drive was a nightmare.
"Report," she snapped.
Eyelashes, looking exhausted, pointed to a list on the board. "It's worse than we thought, Boss. The list of 'Converted Assets' wasn't just Neo Hero recruits. It includes active Hero Association members."
Fubuki stopped pacing. "Who?"
"It's mostly C and B-Class," Mountain Ape rumbled, reading a tablet. "Guys desperate for a power boost. But the terrifying part isn't who they are, it's what they are. They've all visited Neo Hero medical clinics for 'free checkups' in the last six months."
Fubuki grabbed a marker. "The chips. Forte's suit injected him with drugs, but these people... they have neural implants. Sleeper agents."
She drew a circle around the Hero Association HQ.
"If the Neo Heroes activate a command code," she whispered, her blood running cold, "half the security detail inside the Association could turn on the executives instantly. It's not an invasion. It's a coup waiting to happen."
Suddenly, her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
She picked it up. "Who is this?"
"Ms. Blizzard," a distorted voice crackled. It wasn't robotic like Genos. It sounded synthesized, soulless. "We know you have the drive. We know you have the Clone. We suggest you make a trade."
"I don't trade with terrorists," Fubuki said, her grip on the phone tightening until the plastic creaked.
"Terrorists?" the voice laughed. "We are evolution. Keep the drive. But the Clone... he is a dangerous anomaly. If you don't hand him over, we will trigger the Awakening. Not next week. Not tomorrow. Now."
"What Awakening?"
"Check the news."
The line went dead.
Fubuki scrambled to turn on the TV monitor in the corner. Every channel was breaking their regular programming.
The headline screamed: HERO RIOTS? C-CLASS HEROES ATTACK CIVILIANS IN CITY J, CITY M, AND CITY F!
On screen, grainy footage showed a group of low-ranked heroes—guys in colorful spandex who usually rescued cats from trees—tearing apart a shopping mall with superhuman strength, their eyes glowing a dull, flat grey.
"They flipped the switch," Eyelashes breathed, horrified. "They're activating them."
Saitama, Genos, and the clown-wig-wearing Shadow-san were walking down the street in City Z. Shadow-san dragged a cart filled with wood and drywall, looking like the world's saddest cosplayer.
"The air..." Shadow-san muttered, looking at the blue sky. "It smells... clean. No sulfur. No burning flesh."
"It's called fresh air," Saitama said. "Enjoy it while it lasts. Usually around noon the smog from City A blows over."
They turned a corner near a busy intersection. A large screen on a building was playing the news. People were stopping, gasping, pointing at the footage of the hero riots.
Genos halted. "Sensei. Multiple disturbances reported globally. Hero Association members are engaging in unprovoked violence."
Saitama looked at the screen. "Huh. That looks like Chain-Toad. Isn't he a good guy?"
"He appears to be strangling a vending machine," Genos noted. "Sensei! Incoming hostiles!"
Three heroes landed in front of them. They were B-Classers. Low rank. Wild Horn, Pink Hornet, and Trap Tengu.
Usually, these three would bow respectfully to Genos and maybe ask for an autograph. Today, they stood hunched over, drool leaking from their mouths. Their eyes were rolling back in their heads, showing only whites with grey veins.
"Eliminate," Wild Horn gurgled. "Eliminate the Fortress."
Shadow-san dropped the cart of wood. He began to shake.
"No," he whispered, clutching his head. "Not here too. It starts like this. The infection. The control."
His eyes went wide with PTSD-fueled panic. In his world, this was how the Hero Hunt ended. Former allies turning into mindless killers.
"They must be purged," Shadow-san hissed. Black energy flared around his fists. The air grew cold. "Before they kill us. We have to kill them."
He lunged at Pink Hornet, his fist aimed to decapitate.
"Stop," Saitama said.
He grabbed Shadow-san by the back of his collar—right where the hoodie met the clown wig—and yanked him back. Shadow-san's legs flew out from under him, and he slammed onto the pavement.
"We don't kill people," Saitama said firmly.
"They aren't people anymore!" Shadow-san screamed, pointing at the drooling heroes. "Look at them! They're puppets! If you hesitate, they'll tear this city apart! That's why I lost! Because I hesitated!"
Wild Horn charged, his pile-bunker arm primed.
Saitama sighed. "Genos, deal with them. Non-lethal. Use the glue thing Tanktop Master tried."
"I do not possess adhesive weaponry, Sensei," Genos replied, dodging a strike from Trap Tengu. "However, I can administer concussive force calculated to induce immediate REM sleep."
"Knock 'em out. Go."
Genos moved. A blur of silver. Chop. Chop. Kick.
It took less than two seconds. The three corrupted heroes lay in a heap on the sidewalk, unconscious but breathing.
Shadow-san stared at the pile of bodies. His breathing was jagged. "You... you just left them alive. They'll wake up. They'll come back."
"Then we'll knock 'em out again," Saitama said, picking up the cart handle himself. "It's not that hard."
"You don't understand!" Shadow-san yelled, tears mixing with the dirt on his face. "Trust killed my world! I trusted the Association! I trusted my friends! And they all turned! You can't save everyone with half-measures!"
Saitama looked at his doppelganger. He saw the fear. The absolute, bone-deep trauma.
"Maybe," Saitama said. "But this isn't your world. And I'm not you."
He tapped the orange wig, which had slipped sideways on Shadow-san's head. "Fix your hair. You're scaring the kids."
Across town, Forte watched the news from his hospital bed. He was still bandaged, his body aching from the forced overdrive.
His phone buzzed. It was a notification from the Neo Heroes app.
URGENT: RECALL ORDER. ALL AUGMENTED HEROES REPORT TO BASE FOR MANDATORY FIRMWARE UPDATE.
Forte looked at the message. He remembered the feeling of the suit taking over. The needles in his spine. The loss of control.
He looked at the screen again. Firmware update.
"Update..." he whispered. "Or override?"
He grabbed the phone and crushed it in his bandaged hand. He threw the pieces across the room.
"No more," he muttered. He pulled the IV drip from his arm. He stood up, shaky on his legs.
He needed to find someone. Not the Neo Heroes. Not the Hero Association. He needed to find the only person who had seen the tech for what it was—cheap junk.
That evening, Fubuki burst into Saitama's ruined apartment without knocking (there was no door to knock on anyway).
"We have a problem," she announced.
"We know," Saitama said, pointing to a stack of freshly painted drywall. "Shadow-san tried to help paint, but he only uses black. Now the bathroom looks like a goth club."
"Not the paint!" Fubuki slammed a stack of photos onto the table. "Look at these."
They were surveillance photos of the HA executives. Sitch. The bearded worker. The rich sponsors.
"The rioting heroes were a distraction," Fubuki said, her voice grim. "While everyone was watching the streets, something happened inside the main secure server room at HQ."
She pointed to a blurry figure in one of the photos. It was a security guard, letting someone into the Restricted Level.
"That guard has been working there for ten years. Loyal. Family man." Fubuki paused. "He was chipped last week."
"And who did he let in?" Genos asked.
Fubuki slid the last photo across the table.
It showed a man entering the server room. He wasn't a villain. He wasn't a monster.
It was Metal Knight. Or at least, one of his drones.
"Bofoi," Fubuki whispered. "Metal Knight has cleared out the Hero Association's defense mainframe. He stole the encryption keys to the city's defense systems."
"Why?" Saitama asked.
"Because," Shadow-san spoke up from the shadowy corner of the room, his orange wig glowing ominously in the dim light. "That's how it started for us, too. First the riots. Then the system failure."
He stepped forward. "Metal Knight isn't stealing the defenses to destroy the city."
"Then what?"
"He's stealing them to hand the keys to someone else."
At that moment, the city-wide broadcast system screeched to life. Every siren, every loudspeaker, every phone in City Z lit up with an emergency alert.
THE HERO ASSOCIATION IS COMPROMISED. FOR YOUR SAFETY, CONTROL OF CITY Z IS BEING TRANSFERRED TO THE NEO HEROES SECURITY DIVISION. REMAIN INDOORS. RESISTANCE WILL BE DESIGNATED AS MONSTER ACTIVITY.
Outside the window, in the darkening sky, a fleet of massive, black Neo Hero dropships descended through the clouds.
Saitama looked out the window. "Hey. Those ships are parking in the no-parking zone."
Shadow-san clenched his fists. "The Trust is broken. The coup has begun."
Saitama cracked his knuckles. "Great. More noise."