Three Days Later
Izuku had been jogging since 6 AM, and now, under the dim glow of streetlights, his sneakers pounded the pavement well past 10 PM. His muscles burned, his breath came in sharp bursts, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
Finally, he slowed as he reached the park, his eyes scanning the area before locking onto an unassuming van tucked beneath the thick canopy of an oak tree, shaded from the sun and, more importantly, from prying cameras.
He slipped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. In seconds, his sweat-drenched workout clothes were replaced with a delivery uniform, a cap pulled low over his face. Through the tinted window, his gaze settled on his target: Mateo Rivera.
A serial killer. A rapist. A monster who hunted women for sport.
Mateo's Quirk, Tentacle Finger, was as vile as the man himself, his fingers elongating into grotesque appendages, violating his victims before he finally snuffed out their lives. And now, there he was, flashing a charming smile at another unsuspecting woman, his smooth words reeling her in.
Izuku's jaw tightened as he watched the exchange. The woman laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before scribbling her number onto Mateo's outstretched hand.
'Perfect.'
As Mateo sauntered away, Izuku moved. He stepped out of the van, casually lowering the back door and stacking a few crates on the pavement. The moment Mateo drew near, Izuku turned, feigning fatigue.
"Hey, can you help me with this last crate?"
Mateo barely glanced at him, just some scrawny delivery kid. With a shrug, he climbed into the van, his back turned as he reached for the box.
*Click.*
The soft hiss of gas filled the enclosed space. Mateo's head snapped up just as Izuku slammed the door shut.
"Hey, kid? What the hell?"
His words slurred. His knees buckled. And before he could react, the world went black.
Izuku didn't hesitate. He slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, and pulled away just another van disappearing into the night.
. . . .
The Midnight Station (Izuku Hideout),
At the center of it all, strapped to a metal table with thick restraints, lay Mateo conscious, bleeding, and horrifically aware of his missing arms.
The pain came in waves, dulled by shock but sharp enough to remind him of what had been taken. When he tried to move, his shoulders jerked uselessly, the stumps of his limbs twitching against the bindings. His breath hitched as his gaze darted around, taking in the makeshift lab wires, monitors, surgical tools stained dark with blood.
Then he saw him.
Izuku stood nearby, clad in a blood-smeared surgeon's coat, his gloved hands adjusting a series of electrodes attached to Mateo's torso. The cold precision in his movements was worse than any madness Mateo might have expected.
"You," Mateo snarled, his voice raw. "I'll fucking kill you for this."
Izuku didn't even glance up. He simply turned away, checking a monitor that displayed erratic vitals.
"Do I even know you?" Mateo demanded, straining against the restraints. "What's your problem?"
Silence.
Izuku walked to the far end of the room, where a mechanical arm whirred to life, priming a syringe filled with an eerie blue liquid.
"What are you doing to me?!" Mateo's voice cracked, panic clawing up his throat.
No answer. Only the hum of machinery and the sterile voice of an AI cutting through the air.
Oracle: [Preparations complete. Administering first injection.]
The robotic arm descended, the needle glinting under the harsh light. Mateo thrashed, but there was no escaping the cold bite of the serum flooding his veins. His muscles seized. His vision blurred.
Izuku observed the monitors, fingers steepled in calm calculation until the readings spiked violently.
A wet, guttural sound escaped Mateo's throat. Then...
*Pop.*
His body ruptured in a burst of crimson, splattering the walls, the equipment, Izuku's pristine coat.
"Note the dosage," Izuku said, wiping a fleck of blood from his cheek. "Adjust the next iteration."
Oracle: [Acknowledged. Reformulating serum parameters.]
The machines whirred back to work, unfazed.
"That was a failure," Izuku muttered, wiping his hands before methodically cleaning the area. He needed to prepare for his second subject.
"Oracle, assist me with disposal," he commanded.
A swarm of cylindrical robots whirred to life, their mechanisms humming as they absorbed the blood and viscera, leaving the space spotless.
Once the robots finished, Izuku stripped off his soiled clothes and stepped into the nearby shower. The cold water washed away the grime, but not his frustration. Freshly dressed, he slumped into a chair, running a hand through his damp hair as he dissected the experiment in his mind.
"What went wrong?" he murmured.
Oracle: [Excessive dosage. The serum triggered a toxic reaction, resulting in catastrophic systemic failure.]
"But there were signs of progress, weren't there?" Izuku pressed. "Muscle growth? Increased bone density? Neural enhancement?"
Oracle: [Negative. No measurable improvements were detected before termination.]
Izuku's expression flattened. 'Back to the drawing board.'
A sudden realization made him groan. "And I still haven't tested the extraction method." He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. 'Too many variables, not enough time.'
Izuku had only a year left to make this work. He needed to get to Japan to stop the impending war and kill Muscular.
His plate was already overflowing: refining his suit, securing more funds, and squeezing in every bit of vigilante work for experience. Every second counted.
"Stop overthinking. Just get another one on the table," Izuku muttered, shoving open the door.
The growl of his bike cut through the hum of afternoon traffic as he sped through the streets. Then, his phone buzzed. He tapped his earpiece.
"Yeah, Elena?"
Elena's voice crackled through the phone, tense and urgent. "Our research on Quirk stabilization, it's been stolen."
Izuku's breath hitched. "What?!"
"I've verified Clara's report. The data was taken, and the server was wiped clean," Elena confirmed, her tone grim.
"Any idea who did this?" Izuku demanded, his grip tightening around the phone.
"Not yet," she admitted.
"Stay there. Don't let anyone touch anything until I arrive," Izuku ordered, already moving.
"Understood. I'll wait for you," Elena replied.
The call ended, and Izuku exhaled sharply, "There's always something..."
Frustration burned in his chest. His research; his progress was now on hold because of some thief.
"Just wait," he muttered under his breath, jaw clenched. "Whoever did this... you won't get away with it."
Izuku sped down the road, arriving at his company faster than ever. He tore off his helmet and rushed inside, barely slowing his pace as he pushed through the doors.
Without a word, he took the stairs two at a time, bursting into his office where Clara and Elena were waiting. Ignoring their questioning looks, he dropped into his chair, fired up his computer, and immediately began dissecting the server's malfunction.
His fingers flew across the keyboard, tracing the digital trail of the breach. Then, his breath hitched. His eyes widened.
Clara and Elena exchanged glances before stepping closer. "Well?" Elena pressed.
Izuku leaned back, his voice low. "Someone used a Quirk to hack the entire server." He tapped the screen, jaw tightening. "And they're good, they covered their tracks."
Clara swallowed. "Sir… what about the research data?"
A smirk flickered across Izuku's face. "Relax. I've got a backup. I'll restore it." He cracked his knuckles, gaze sharpening. "Give me a week. I'll find them."
Elena blinked. "You can track them down?"
"Whoever did this has a tech-related Quirk," Izuku said. "And there aren't many of those."
A heavy silence settled over the room. Clara and Elena shifted uncomfortably as the weight of his words sank in.