"Breaking news."
The broadcast looked shaky, like even they didn't know how to handle what was going on.
"In Deika City..."
The feed cut to aerial shots.
Total destruction.
Nothing was left.
"The city has been completely leveled following what is presumed to be a nuclear-level strike."
An awkward silence followed.
"However... this doesn't match any known records."
The reporter swallowed hard.
"It's been approximately 20 minutes since impact, and no country has claimed responsibility."
The screen split into different feeds.
Presidents.
Officials.
Emergency meetings.
"International protocols have been activated immediately. All world powers have been contacted, including the U.S., Russia, China, and the EU..."
"They have all denied any kind of launch."
Another pause.
Tenser this time.
"Furthermore, global detection systems recorded no missiles, no warheads, and no prior military movement."
The footage cut back to the city.
Or what was left of it.
A void.
"Preliminary figures indicate over 3,000 confirmed deaths..."
"And approximately 12,000 people missing."
The reporter's voice dropped.
"Rescue teams haven't been able to fully enter the zone."
"There are reports of anomalies in the air... and the environment in general."
Cameras shaking.
Signals cutting out.
People backing away.
"Witnesses describe... strange sensations, difficulty breathing, and even... hallucinations."
Silence.
Heavy.
"The Japanese government has declared a national state of emergency."
"The Hero Association has mobilized its top figures."
"But as of now..."
The reporter hesitated. Just for a second.
"Nobody knows what that was."
There were bodies everywhere. Some had this weird greenish tint, like something had crawled inside them and changed them from within. Others didn't even look human anymore—just shapes slumped among the rubble, limbs out of place, burnt clothes, and that heavy stench that stuck to your throat when you breathed. Collapsed buildings, walls ripped open like they'd been torn apart, the ground riddled with cracks and twisted metal. The whole place looked dead.
And yet, in the middle of all that, someone was walking. Step by step, unhurried, not reacting to a thing. They moved through the wreckage like it didn't matter, while on either side, some figures were still moving—people who weren't quite dead but weren't okay either, shivering, crawling, staring into the void like they couldn't wrap their heads around what happened. And that person just kept moving through it all.
"Sleep," I said, grabbing a figure. It turned gray instantly and stopped moving.
"Heh..."
Eri's face twisted a bit.
It wasn't natural.
But it worked.
I kept walking through the debris, grabbing one after another, making them stay still, keeping them under control. I was in no rush; this was already mine.
But...
That Quirk.
I looked at my hand.
Opened it.
Closed it.
"Rewind..." I muttered.
There was a body lying nearby. I didn't even stop to look at it properly. I just reached out my hand.
And used the Quirk.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then...
It moved.
It went backward.
Like something was being undone.
My eyes glowed slightly.
"..."
It worked.
But then I felt it.
A crash.
Dry.
Fast.
Like something had been drained out of me all at once.
I frowned.
Lowered my hand.
"No..." I whispered.
This wasn't like my magic.
This had a limit.
And a steep one at that.
I looked at my hand again and clenched it.
"...I'm gonna have to recharge this."
I clicked my tongue.
Annoyed. But with a slight smirk.
"Still... it's useful."
I touched my horn for a moment. It felt weird. Familiar. Like the body knew things I didn't. I thought about diving into the girl's memories, seeing everything, really figuring out how this worked... but what a drag. I didn't need it right now. The basics were enough. I'd see later if it was worth the effort.
I kept walking through the ruins, taking control of the mutants one by one, taking my time, like I was tidying up something that already belonged to me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something.
Something moved on the edge of my vision.
I stopped for a second.
A wing.
Big.
Too big.
I watched for a few more seconds.
"...That's a big-ass bird, isn't it?" I muttered.
Then I just shrugged.
Not my problem.
Back to business.
Perspective Shift:
"Dammit..."
The Head of the Association stood in the middle of her office, phone in hand, dialing over and over.
No one was answering.
Nobody.
She ran a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated. Everything had gone to hell in no time. People were pointing fingers at the Association. Like they'd done it. Like anyone in their right mind would drop a damn nuke.
She dialed again.
Hawks.
Calling...
...
Nothing.
"Leave a message—"
She hung up. Without waiting.
"Shit."
She slammed the phone onto the desk with more force than necessary.
The door opened.
"Chief—"
The secretary went quiet the moment she saw her.
She didn't say another word.
Closed the door.
Silence.
...
"Hell..." she whispered, picking up the phone again.
This time, she went straight to the source.
The United States.
If anyone knew anything about this... it was them.
She waited.
One ring.
Another.
She clenched her jaw.
Because if they didn't know anything either...
Perspective Shift:
"Please, stay back!" a police officer shouted, arm outstretched to hold the crowd.
But no one wanted to listen.
There were too many people.
Reporters pushing.
Cameras held high.
Relatives crying.
Everything was a mess. A total chaos.
"Let us through, we have a right to report!" one guy shouted, mic held high, trying to slip past the officers.
"Sir, step back!"
"The people need to see this!"
Another was already recording over an agent's shoulder.
"We are on the outskirts of Deika, where—"
An officer shoved his camera down.
"Turn that off!"
A few yards away, a woman was on the ground.
Sobbing.
"My son... my son was in there..." she kept repeating, clutching her head.
Someone else tried to pick her up.
"Ma'am, please, calm down..."
"They said it was safe!" she screamed.
"They said the heroes had everything under control!"
No one answered.
"My sister was in that city!" a boy yelled, trying to push forward.
Two cops held him back.
"You can't go in!"
"Let me see!"
"There's nothing to see!" one replied, losing his patience.
The boy froze.
Breathing fast.
Not knowing whether to scream or stay silent.
Further back, another reporter was live.
"The situation remains out of control; authorities are barring access, and there's no clear information on what occurred..."
He lowered his voice.
"But sources close to the scene claim this... was no ordinary explosion."
A murmur began to grow among the crowd.
"They say it was the Association..."
"No... that makes no sense..."
"Then who was it..."
"An attack?"
"Another country?"
"But nobody's said anything..."
The officer at the front gritted his teeth.
Looking at them all.
Not knowing what to say.
Because the truth was...
Even they didn't know what was happening.
"Are you sure these suits are anti-radiation?" Aizawa asked, eyeing the Association executives.
One of them clearly wasn't even convinced himself.
"Affirmative..." he said, but he sounded hesitant.
Another stepped in quickly.
"They should work. We hadn't anticipated something like this in this day and age."
While they talked, they were adjusting a suit on a girl who could barely stand still.
Aizawa shook his head and looked toward the zone.
Everything was destroyed. Nothing left standing.
The air looked... weird.
Heavy.
Like it wasn't meant to be breathed.
It looked like Chernobyl.
But worse.
"What's the body count?" he asked while stretching a bit; the injuries from the U.A. invasion were still bugging him.
"Over three thousand confirmed..." someone replied from behind.
"And rising."
Silence.
"Ready?" a man already in his suit asked, looking at the group.
No one answered immediately.
But they moved.
"Take these," another said, handing out gear.
Body bags.
Tools.
Basic stuff.
"We're going in to recover bodies... so get your heads right."
Aizawa grabbed several bags and looked inside.
He sighed.
"I don't get paid enough for this..." he thought.
Then he looked up.
And started walking.
They entered as a group.
Straight into the zone.
Several minutes passed where all they found were ashes and that green fire that wouldn't go out.
Everything was the same.
Silent.
Heavy.
"Why is it green?" Joke asked, looking around, clearly uncomfortable.
"We're almost certain it's due to a Quirk," one of the executives replied while recording with a special camera; everything they did was being streamed in real-time to the Association.
"A Quirk that's way too powerful..." another muttered, observing a piece of a hand with green liquid stuck to it.
"Is that liquid radiation?" someone else asked.
"Could also be part of the Quirk."
Aizawa shook his head.
Too calm.
For the absolute shitshow they were in.
Then...
A crack.
Dry.
Everyone froze.
They all looked toward a half-destroyed alleyway at the same time.
There...
A hand.
Gray.
Moving.
"Eh...?" the executive blurted out, stepping closer without thinking.
"A survivor?" one of the heroes asked, confused.
"I doubt it's alive," Aizawa replied, moving forward.
"Careful," he said, readying his scarf.
...
...
...
The hand stopped moving for a second.
And then—
It lunged.
Too fast.
Aizawa reacted instantly and yanked the executive back.
"What the hell?!" several shouted as they recoiled and took their stances.
The hand hit the ground.
And behind it...
"What the fuck..." the executive gasped, staring at what had crawled out of the alley.
It wasn't a person.
Not anymore.
It had four arms, its body twisted, like two people had been fused into one. The proportions were all wrong, the faces... even worse.
"...What the fuck..." another repeated, covering their mouth.
Several looked away.
No one was okay.
Not even Aizawa.
But he kept it together.
He activated his Quirk and locked eyes on the thing.
...
...
"It's not affecting it," he said without blinking.
The message was clear.
That wasn't a normal Quirk.
One of the heroes raised a hand, and the creature began to lift, caught by telekinesis. It thrashed in the air, trying to reach for something that was no longer there.
"Well... seems harmless enough," he said, forcing his voice while keeping it suspended.
"Keep it there," Aizawa replied, not relaxing for a second.
The thing kept moving.
Clumsy.
But persistent.
...
"Destroy the brain," the executive said without hesitation, still recording.
The hero nodded.
A gesture.
And the creature went rigid.
It stopped moving.
The gray color began to shift.
It turned back into that weird green.
...
"Did it evolve or something...?" someone whispered, eyes glued to it.
"I doubt it," the executive replied, looking closer, as if trying to understand.
Aizawa said nothing.
Out of nowhere, the ground trembled slightly. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to make everyone tense up. No one said a word, just glances—something was wrong. A crunching sound came from below. One of the heroes looked down and whispered:
"...Hey..."
As a small crack appeared, then another, and another. The earth began to split open bit by bit, as if something was pushing from below. And then, a gray hand emerged slowly, dragging itself out, like it was a struggle. No one moved. A few yards away, another hand broke through the ground. Further down, another, and another. No order, no rhythm, just appearing. The rubble shifted as those things crawled out. First arms, then heads, then bodies. All gray. All wrong. Some stood halfway up, others crawled, but none of them stopped. One, two, five, ten. Someone swallowed hard and said:
"...They aren't alone."
Aizawa slowly turned his head. It wasn't just one spot anymore. It was everywhere. They were being surrounded. No running, no noise, just closing in. And they kept coming.
From the Lich's Perspective:
"...Mmn?" I said, looking toward a specific point.
I stayed still for a second.
Sensing.
"They went in that fast?" I muttered in an almost bored tone.
I looked toward the zone.
As if I could see them.
"Aren't they afraid of getting cancer or something?"
I let out a small huff of a laugh.
Back to work.
I grabbed the last mutant I needed.
"Sleep."
The body tensed for a second... then went still.
I dropped it without a thought.
I looked around.
At my "army."
All gray.
Quiet.
Waiting.
I nodded my small head.
Satisfied.
"Not bad..." I murmured.
And then I looked back in that direction.
Toward the heroes.
"Might as well test them out..." I muttered.
My body dissolved into smoke, spreading through the air.
I gave the order.
That was all.
From above, floating, I watched.
The mutants began to move.
One by one.
At the same time.
Closing the gap.
Surrounding them.
I looked at the one they had taken down earlier.
That gray body.
Still.
Totally useless where it was, so I simply recited a spell.
"Consume."
The word came out simple.
And the body ignited.
Green.
It writhed for a second... and then turned to ash.
I absorbed what was left.
That energy.
Heavy.
Useful.
"Exquisite," I said, licking my teeth with a childlike grin.
I turned my gaze back to the heroes.
They were already moving.
Bracing themselves.
The mutants began to lunge at them.
No visible coordination.
But absolute obedience.
I smiled.
"...Let's see how long they last."
End of Chapter 8.