The cell pulsed with a sickly rhythm, its walls of bone and sinew contracting and expanding as if breathing. Mirko lay on the cold, damp floor, her body wracked with tremors. Sweat drenched her fur, and her muscles ached with a deep, unrelenting pain. The aftereffects of Scarlet Rush were more than just physical; they clawed at her mind, whispering promises of power and relief if she would only submit.
No. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. I won't be their puppet.
A faint sound echoed through the corridor—the soft, wet slap of footsteps approaching. Mirko forced herself to her feet, every movement a battle against her rebelling body. She pressed her back against the wall, ears twitching to pinpoint the source of the sound.
Kasumi appeared, her expression serene, almost reverent. In her hands, she carried another vial of the crimson liquid.
"Time for your next dose," she said, her voice devoid of emotion.
Not this time. Mirko summoned the last reserves of her strength and launched herself at Kasumi, catching her off guard. They tumbled to the ground, the vial shattering and its contents seeping into the porous floor.
A surge of adrenaline coursed through Mirko, momentarily overriding the pain. She delivered a swift punch to Kasumi's jaw, sending her sprawling. Without hesitation, Mirko sprinted down the corridor, her vision blurred but her path clear.
The underground labyrinth twisted and turned, each corridor indistinguishable from the last. The walls seemed to close in, the very structure of the place designed to confuse and trap. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her limbs felt like lead, but she pressed on.
Focus. Breathe. Move.
She burst into a chamber, its walls lined with grotesque experiments—twisted amalgamations of flesh and machinery, failed attempts at creating the perfect soldier. The sight fueled her determination.
I won't end up like them.
A demon lunged at her, its claws aimed at her throat. Mirko ducked, using its momentum to flip it over her shoulder. She grabbed a discarded metal rod from the floor and swung it with all her might, crushing the creature's skull.
Pain flared in her side, a reminder of her broken ribs. She staggered but didn't stop. Every step was a testament to her willpower.
Finally, she saw it—a faint light filtering through a crack in the ceiling. Hope surged within her. She scaled the wall, using protrusions and ledges as handholds. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she climbed, inch by agonizing inch.
As she reached the top, a hand grabbed her ankle. Kasumi, bloodied but relentless, tried to pull her back.
"You're not leaving," she hissed.
Mirko kicked free, her foot connecting with Kasumi's face. She pulled herself through the opening, collapsing onto the forest floor above. The cool night air filled her lungs, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere below.
She was free, but her ordeal was far from over. The Scarlet Rush still lingered in her system, its effects unpredictable. But Mirko had escaped Mazoku's clutches, and she would use every ounce of her strength to bring his twisted empire down.
—————
The deep chambers of the underground maze pulses with life—walls of sinew and bone contracting in a rhythm that mirrors my own heartbeat. Standing before the central vat of swirling mass of crimson liquid: Scarlet Rush, my masterpiece. My brain child.
Each droplet contains a fragment of me, a seed planted within the vessels of those who seek power. They believe it enhances their quirks, elevates them beyond their natural limits. They do not realize that with every dose, they surrender a piece of themselves to me. Their strength becomes my strength; their will, an extension of my own.
Mirko was a particularly intriguing subject. Her resilience and tenacity made her an ideal candidate. Administering the drug had been a calculated move, observing how her formidable will grappled with the invasive nature of Scarlet Rush revealed many things. Her escape was not a failure but was the destined course of action.
Let her run. Let her believe she's free. That's she escaped the monster in the forest. Her thirst will return, the craving will consume her, and when she seeks relief, she will come to me. Begging for it.
I turn to a massive organic map on the chamber wall, illuminated by bioluminescent veins. Mirko's position pulses faintly, a beacon
Aika approaches, her demeanor respectful.
"Its going according to plan, my lord," she reports.
I nod. "As expected. Scarlet Rush binds her to us. Every heartbeat, every breath, draws her closer."
I gaze into the distance, envisioning a world reshaped by my design. A society where individuality is a facade, and unity means singularity under my dominion.
Soon, the world will understand the true purpose of power: to serve a greater will—mine.
——————
Two Days Later — Musutafu General Hospital
The walls of the room were painfully white.
Mirko sat up against the pillows, one arm in a sling, bandages wrapped tight around her abdomen.
Machines hummed around her, and despite her injuries, she hadn't slept more than three hours since she was brought in. Her ears twitched every time someone passed in the hallway.
She couldn't relax. Not with the itch in her blood. Not with the whisper in her skull.
But she was clear enough now. Strong enough to tell them.
The door opened. She already knew who was there before she saw them.
Endeavor stepped in first, tall and stone-faced, his flames dimmed. Best Jeanist followed, dressed impeccably even in a hospital. Edgeshot melted into the corner silently, unreadable as ever. Ryukyu walked beside Hawks, whose wings drooped with fatigue. Kamui Woods lingered in the hallway with two agents from the Hero Public Safety Commission.
They weren't here for pleasantries.
"I take it this isn't a social call," Mirko said flatly.
"You sent a priority-one alert," Endeavor growled. "From the forest. No context. Just your coordinates and blood everywhere."
"I was being hunted," she said. "I barely made it out."
She shifted in the bed, the pain lancing through her side sharp enough to make her hiss. But she pushed it down. She needed her edge. Her clarity.
"There's a facility. North of the Aokusa region, deep underground. The forest above it's rotting, like the ground itself is poisoned. It's not just another villain lab—it's alive. Grown."
That earned glances. Best Jeanist folded his arms, frowning. Ryukyu furrowed her brow.
"What do you mean, grown?" Hawks asked, squinting.
"I mean it breathes," Mirko said, ears flattening slightly. "Its walls are bone. Its veins pump Scarlet Rush—some kind of bioweapon. I was taken. They experimented on me. Tried to turn me into one of their soldiers."
There was silence.
She didn't mention the hallucinations. The way the Rush still pulsed in her blood, whispering.
She didn't mention Kasumi's cold hands or the dreams of red oceans.
"Scarlet Rush?" Edgeshot repeated.
"Enhancement drug," Mirko muttered. "It amplifies quirks. But it changes people. It… invades them. I felt it. And I think it spreads."
The Hero Commission agent stepped forward. A sharp woman with horn-rimmed glasses and a tablet in her hand.
"We've intercepted chatter on the dark web about a 'Red Vein.' Rumors about power enhancement for cash. We assumed it was a scam. Are you saying it's real?"
"Very real," Mirko growled. "I saw what it does. It doesn't make you stronger. It makes you his."
"His?" Best Jeanist asked.
"Mazoku," she said. "Some kind of monster—human once, maybe. He's behind this. And he's not making an army. He's making extensions of himself."
There was a long silence.
Then Endeavor turned toward the Commission agent.
"Get every agency mobilized. Underground, black market, street-level informants—I want every vial of this Scarlet Rush found and destroyed."
"And what if it's already spread?" Hawks asked quietly.
They all looked at each other.
No one spoke
—-
Elsewhere — Shibuya, Tokyo
Midnight.
Rain slicked the streets. Neon lights flickered and danced on wet pavement as the city thrummed with life.
In a dark alley beside a noodle bar, a young man named Koji shivered beneath a rusted fire escape. His hands trembled as he held the vial of Scarlet Rush.
He was nobody. A dropout. His quirk—Snap Sight—let him freeze-frame what he saw for two seconds. Useless in a fight. Useless in hero work.
But not tonight.
He jabbed the needle into his neck and pressed the plunger.
For a moment, nothing.
Then came the heat.
A scream tore from his throat as his muscles bulged unnaturally. His eyes widened, pupils stretching. His bones cracked. His skin flushed red as veins crawled across it like vines.
And then—clarity.
He could see everything. Hear people breathing a block away. His quirk… it evolved. He didn't just freeze time anymore. He moved within it.
He laughed, stumbling into the street.
Then a figure slammed into him.
Gunhead.
"You shouldn't have taken that stuff, kid."
Koji roared and swung wildly, faster than he'd ever moved. Gunhead blocked and countered, surprised by the sheer ferocity.
"I don't want to hurt you!" Gunhead shouted.
Koji grinned, eyes blazing red. "Then you'll die."
——
Meanwhile — Osaka
Mt. Lady stood on a decimated street, panting, blood running down her temple. Before her, four former sidekicks—now grotesquely enhanced—stalked forward. Their bodies twitched with too much power. One was literally melting into a puddle and reforming. Another roared with flame from every pore.
"All of them took it," she whispered into her communicator. "They're not human anymore."
"Backup is en route," came the reply.
She grit her teeth.
Too slow.
Back in the Forest — Aokusa Region
Mazoku stood on a hill of muscle and bone, gazing through a living scryer—one of the tower-like constructs that had burst from the ground in the last 24 hours. His body was calm. His mind was electric.
His children were blooming.
All across Japan, heroes were being tested. The system cracking.
He could feel every one of them. Their pulses. Their screams. Their resistance.
He drank them all in.
"Soon," he whispered, placing a clawed hand on Aika's shoulder. "Very soon, the world will look to the heroes for salvation…"
"And they will fall."