Fractured Wings

The convoy rumbled through the dimly lit forest road, the rhythmic hum of engines blending with the occasional chirp of nocturnal creatures. Four police cars formed a tight perimeter around the armoured truck transporting Lyra Himemiya, each vehicle bristling with vigilance. Above them, the moon hung heavy and pale, it's light casting long, jagged shadows through the trees. 

Inside the lead car, Snipe adjusted his cowboy hat, his fingers tapping lightly on the wheel. "Y'all been followin' the news about the clean up of that game? Damn thing sounds like somethin' outta a horror flick," he drawled through the comms. 

"Not just in the news, it's all most people talk about now. Though we've only been removed from the incident for a few days now." Kamui Woods replied from his position in the rear vehicle, his voice carrying a measured concern. "Times feel a lot more dangerous now then they've ever been. Thank God we still have All Might with us." 

"Yeah, sucks he couldn't catch that fucker Proxy though." Snipe responded, glancing briefly at the rear-view mirror. 

"Proxy's patterns are too unpredictable. And there is still little to know about his quirk, so we can't blame him or anyone for losing sight of him." Best Jeanist interjected coolly from atop the truck, riding shotgun in the most literal sense. His fibers swayed in the breeze like a cloak of living threads. 

"Well, do you think that guy will be coming to reclaim the gal'?" Snipe asked. 

Jeanist didn't take much time to think on his reply. "No. His priorities don't align with risking himself to reclaim an old associate. Lyra was a pawn in his schemes, nothing more." 

"Maybe so," Kamui said, his voice lower now. "But even pawns can turn the tide if used well. She fought alongside him against the top three heroes in the nation. That's more than a pawn in my books." 

Jeanist remained silent for a moment, his eyes scanning the shadows, "She used cowardly tactics to make sure that they couldn't fight at full capacity." he spat out. "Regardless, the likelihood of an attack from Proxy is low." 

"Here's to hopin' you're right," Snipe replied. "Still, somethin' feel's off about all this—" 

The ground ahead of them exploded, a sudden eruption of dirt and asphalt forcing the vehicles to skid to a halt. A shockwave rippled outward, and Snipe's car rocked violently as he slammed the brakes. 

"What the hell?" Kamui barked, his wooden appendages unfurling instinctively as he exited his vehicle. 

Before them, standing at the heart of a fresh crater, was a girl of greater-than-average height. Her figure was illuminated by the fracture moonlight, her stance wide and unwavering. Dust swirled around her, but her presence was unmistakeable. Power and excitement. 

Her punch left a gaping scar on the road, a testament to raw strength. She raised her head, her eyes glinting with determination as she regarded the convoy with an unnerving calm. 

"Contact!" Kamui shouted into his comms, his wooden limbs coiling defensively. "We've got an unidentified hostile!" 

Best Jeanist leapt down from the truck with practised precision, his fibers already unspooling. "We'll move her to the backup location. Snipe, cover the flank. Kamui, secure the perimeter!" 

"Roger!" Snipe responded, already drawing his twin pistols as he scanned the forest for further threats. 

Kamui extended his limbs to form a protective barrier around the truck, his tone sharp. "Jeanist, can you buy us enough time?" 

Jeanist didn't answer immediately. His fibers moved in fluid synchronization, forming a protective cocoon around the truck as he positioned himself between the convoy and their new opponent. "We can't let her delay us for long. Prepare for extraction protocols. We move on my signal." 

The girl stepped forward, her gaze locked on the heroes as the dust settled around her. Her calm demeanour remained unchanged, but her presence was overwhelming. 

"Who the hell is she?" Kamui muttered, his voice light. 

"Doesn't matter," Jeanist replied, his tone cold and precise. "We adapt, or we fail. Stay sharp." 

____

The forest was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves stirred by the night wind. Nagant's voice crackled over the comm in my ear, steady and calm as ever. 

"Position secured. I've got a clear line of sight on the convoy." 

I crouched low, the damp earth beneath my fingers as I peered through the foliage. Miku was beside me, her stance coiled like a spring. Arata stood behind us against a tree. 

The damp scent of moss filled my nostrils. 

"The plan?" Miku asked, her voice low but firm. 

I gestured toward the convoy rolling steadily along the dirt road below. Best Jeanist perched atop the armoured truck, his fibers gleaming faintly in the moonlight, a watchful guardian. Four police cars flanked the vehicle in a tight formation, their sirens off but their lights casting faint red-and-blue glows across the trees. 

"We probably shouldn't take him head-on." Nagant can provide us cover against him for us to escape if necessary. "He's fast. And his quirk would be annoying to deal with." 

Miku tried to hide a grin. "Good. Let's shake him up a bit." 

"You should focus on disrupting him." I told her, "Force him to focus on you while I go for the truck. Arata, you stay close and use your quirk to keep things off of me. Once the truck is stopped you handle the extraction." 

"Good plan newbie." Arata had let me lead, as a test. 

Nagant's voice chimed in again. "Anytime now. They're reaching the bend." 

I took a deep breath, the tension in my muscles sharpening into focus. "Let's begin." 

The first strike came from above. Nagant's rifle cracked, her bullets slicing through the air toward the lead police car's front tire. The vehicle swerved, the driver struggling to regain control as the car screeched left. 

Jeanist's fibers reacted instantly, surging forward to reinforce the convoy's defensive formation. His voice calm, but commanding, echoes through the comms. 

"Eyes sharp." He said. "This is a coordinated attack." 

Good. I wanted him on edge. 

From my palm, I folded a sleek paper construct—a feline predator, lean and fast. It's form shimmered briefly before it sprang to life, bolting from the treeline toward the truck. 

Jeanist didn't hesitate. His fibers lashed out, snaring the construct mid-leap. With a sharp twist, they crushed it into scraps, the pieces fluttering harmlessly to the ground. 

But he didn't see Miku coming. 

She moved like a shadow, her fins flaring as she glided through the air with an eerie grace. The faint hum of electricity followed her, a quiet storm building in her wake. 

She landed with a resounding crack, her fists slamming on top of the trucks engine. A surge of energy rippled outward, causing the convoy vehicles to jolt violently. The ground quaked under the force, scattering the police officers scrambling to secure the perimeter. 

'I didn't know she was that strong.' 

Jeanist's attention snapper to her. His fibers coiled and wove into a protective shield, encasing the truck in a dense lattice. 

"Villains!" 

Miku didn't respond, her gaze locked on him with icy determination. She darted forward, her fins slicing through the air. Her movements were unpredictable—feints, rapid dashes, sudden halts—forcing Jeanist to constantly adjust his defenses. 

While his focus was on her, I made my move. 

I folded a paper tendril, it's edges sharp and it's movements precise, and sent it snaking silently across the ground. It coiled around the truck's rear axle, tightening like a noose. 

With a sharp pull, I yanked the axle free. The truck lurched violently, it's rear wheels grinding to a halt.

"Now!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos. 

Arata surged forward. Jeanist reacted instantly, sending a volley of fibers toward him, but Arata's quirk activated in a seamless flow. Each attack diverted harmlessly around him, the fibers bending away as if repelled by an invisible current. 

He moved with an almost serene efficiency, his strides calculated and deliberate. Reaching the truck's back doors, he pulled a small device from his belt and began working on the lock. 

Jeanist's gaze shifted to me. His eyes narrowed. 

"Soryu," he said, his voice sharper now. "So, it's you."

I didn't answer, already crafting another construct, a series of paper knives that hovered around me. 

"I watched you in those games. And I've read and heard quite a lot about you. You're selfish." he said in a cold voice. "Do you even think about how your actions affect others? You have a sister. And mother." 

His words meant nothing. So I showed nothing. Instead, I rolled up my sleeve, revealing a loose thread knotted around my cuff of my shirt.

"Nice trick." I said evenly, plucking it free. "But I'm not stupid." 

Jeanist's eyes flickered, just for an instant. It was all I needed. Behind him another figure appeared and kicked the back of his knees and delivered a swift chop to the back of his neck, knocking him unconscious. 

The figure... was me. 

It was just a copy of me. A clone, made of paper. 

"She's secured!" Arata said, as he brought out a young woman from the back of a truck. Lyra, her pale eyes met mine with a quiet intensity, her hands were still bound by restraints. 

I folded three massive paper birds, with wings wide and sharp beaks. 

"Miku, Arata, take the first bird. The second one will go for Nagant and Ren." I said, lifting Lyra off the ground onto the third. 

Before we ascended, Arata placed his hand on my shoulder. "Good work, Soryu. You lead well. You could end up a leader in no time." 

I didn't respond. My focus was on the sky, on the path ahead. 

As the birds carried us away, Jeanist's words echoed in my mind. 

"Do you even think about your family?" 

'No.'

____

The screen flickered to life, bathing the conference in a cold, blue glow. The image that materialized was both imposing and eerily calm—a man with no discernible face, just a mask and those hollow, unseen eyes that seemed to bore into the soul. All For One's presence was suffocating, even through the digital barrier. 

Re-Destro leaned back in his high-backed chair, his fingers steepled as he regarded the screen. The leader of the Meta-Liberation Army exuded an air of calculated confidence, his sharp features illuminated by the faint glow of the monitor. To his right, Skeptic sat hunched over a tablet, his fingers dancing nervously over it's surface as he jotted down notes and pulled up schematics. Curious sat to Destro's left, her smile as sharp as her words, her eyes gleaming with an almost predatory curiosity as she listened intently. 

The silence stretched for a beat too long, an unspoken power play between two titans. It was All For One who broke the quiet, his voice like a velvet whisper threaded with steel. 

"Ah, the esteemed heir to the Destro lineage." he began, his tone deceptively polite. "It is an honour to address the man who carries the torch of such an illustrious movement. You are, after all, the culmination of decades of vision and sacrifice." 

Re-Destro's lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed nothing but cold calculation. "You flatter me, All For One. But the Meta Liberation Army is not bound by lineage alone. We are bound by purpose." 

"Of course," All For One replied smoothly. "And what a noble purpose it is—true freedom for all. Your father's writings were... transformative. I confess, I've followed your movement since it's inception. Destro's ideals were ahead of their time, though the world was not ready to hear them." 

Curious interjected, her voice sharp but tinged with fascination. "And you, All for One, what were you doing then?" 

Destro was a little angered by her speaking out of turn, and to ask such a question in such a tone. 

A chuckle reverberated through the speakers, low and menacing. "My dear, I've always had a penchant for multitasking. Chaos and order are but tools to sculpt society. Surely you understand?" 

Skeptic frowned, his fingers pausing mid-gesture on his tablet. "Let's cut the pleasantries. You didn't request this meeting to discuss the Destro family's history." 

Re-Destro raised a hand, silencing Skeptic with a calm but commanding gesture. "Patience. Let the man speak." 

All For One inclined his head slightly, as though in acknowledgement. "Indeed, I did not come to dwell on the past. I came to discuss the future—a future where out visions align, where the Meta Liberation Army and my forces converge to reshape this world." 

The room tightened around the trio. 

"I propose a grand symphony," All For One continued, his voice taking on a lyrical cadence. "A crescendo of Liberation and retribution. The stage is already set. Tokyo, Hero's Eve." 

Re-Destro's brows lifted slightly, intrigued. Curious tilted her head, her smile widening. 

"Hero's Eve," she echoed. "The festival meant to celebrate the rise of heroes. How poetic." 

"Indeed." All For One replied. "What better stage for a rebirth than at the height of their hubris? The figureheads of the entire Hero society, gathered in one place to celebrate their triumphs. Government heads, HPSC officials, and the pillars of their system, all in attendance. Imagine their horror when their sanctuary becomes their undoing." 

Re-Destro leaned forward now, his interest piqued. "You propose an attack during Hero's Eve? An event where the entire top ten and more top ranking heroes will be?" 

"Not merely an attack," All For One said. "A reckoning. A surgical strike that decapitates the leadership of hero society and sends a message to the world. The Meta Liberation Army has long sought to dismantle the chains of oppression. This will not only fracture their system but also pave the way for your legislation, for the unshackling of quirks." 

Skeptic frowned, his skepticism clear. "And what, exactly, do you gain from this? You speak of our goals, but your presence in this is hardly altruistic." 

A cold laugh filled the room, it sent a shiver down Skeptic's spine. "Perceptive, I like that one." he said before continuing. "My goals are simple: chaos. But not just for the sake of chaos—chaos as a crucible. Hero society has been stagnant, weighed down by it's own rot. I will destroy their false God's, their symbols of hope, and from their ashes, the world will know the truth." 

"And that truth is you," Re-Destro said, his voice carrying a tone of amusement. 

"Not I, but the truth I represent," All For One corrected. "A truth you and I both share, a world where strength and individuality reign supreme. I will make my public appearance at the Hero's Eve, and my objective will be All Might. His time has long passed, but his death will be their final nail in the coffin." 

The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down like an impeding storm. Re-Destro's lips curved into a slow smile. 

"You make a compelling case, All For One," he said. "Splitting their focus, sowing chaos that we can then swoop in to fix. The Meta Liberation Army will aid you in this endeavour." 

All For One's mask visage tilted slightly, a gesture of approval. "Excellent. I knew you would see the opportunity for what it is." 

Then, as if remembering a secondary point of business, All For One's tone shifted, colder now, yet still cordial. "Tell me Destro. Do you have Soryu in your possession?" 

Re-Destro's smile didn't waver. "I do. And based on the mission he is now on, we will see how useful he can be." 

"Good." All For One replied. "He is an interesting one. I look forward to our collaboration. Together, we will shape a new world." 

The monitor flickered off, plunging the room into darkness once more. 

Curious broke the silence first, her voice a soft hum of excitement. "This could be big. The world will never recover from a blow like this if it goes right." 

Skeptic frowned, his fingers resuming their dance over the tablet. "Or it could backfire spectacularly. Trusting his gamble." 

Re-Destro rose from his seat, his expression resolute. "Every great change requires risk. Prepare the army. Hero's Eve will be the beginning of the end." 

It was still months away but preparation for such a large scale event should take focus.