They got to the front door of the city hall and their eyes darted left and right to check if they had been followed. Dong had been sent out as a pigeon to examine the surroundings, and no one else had been spotted. So they were safe for now.
Mateo approached the door, the corpse cocoon still slung over his left shoulder, and rapped on the door with the verification code Reeves had instructed them to use.
One knock. Pause. One knock. Pause. Three raps in succession.
After a moment of waiting, the heavy double wooden doors creaked open, letting them in.
"Took you guys long enough," Switch said, his blond hair slightly ruffled as he opened the door to greet them.
The four team members walked in without saying a word as Switch closed the doors back on them, pushing a heavy metal box that essentially served as a makeshift barricade.
Inside, the Public Service Counter which had been transformed into the Entry checkpoint was illuminated with military powered flashlights. The windows had been barricaded with steel plates welded over frames, leaving small openings to peek through to check for enemies.
Maya and Amara were seated behind the wide desk counter, playing cards, as if the world wasn't ending outside the hall.
"You caught two villains?" Amara asked without looking up, as if too engrossed in the cards to look at them.
"We caught one," Henrik said briskly.
She finally looked up to see the corpse in the cocoon. "Oh. OHHHHH."
The atmosphere shifted as they realized a dead body was in the room. The cards stopped.
Right on cue, Reeves came down the upper floor through the stairs to check the status.
"Reports?" she asked in military cadence.
"Injuries, minor," Henrik spoke. "Incident: Run-in with two villains. One immobilized, the other, neutralized."
"By neutralized, you mean..." Reeves' eyes went to the slime bodybag on Mateo's shoulder. Her eyes connected with Mateo's, and he nodded in affirmation.
Reeves took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "How did this happen?"
"Villain with unknown abilities," Henrik droned on mechanically. "Team members immobilized, it was necessary to neutralize the situation before it escal—"
"Reeves. What do we do?" Akira asked, her eyes wide, cutting Henrik short.
Reeves sighed heavily. Then she straightened her posture. "That's Commander Reeves, Akira. For the body, take it to the basement. Mateo, will that slime capsule hold through?"
"I don't know," Mateo answered.
Mateo thought bitterly, Do you expect me to have tested my abilities with dead bodies before?
"Then we'll make do with what we have," Reeves said stoically. "Keep the body in the basement. When the transport comes next month, we'll put it in there to have it disposed of properly."
"Yes, Commander," Mateo responded as he walked to where the stairs leading to the basement were, and proceeded downwards.
As he walked down, he heard Reeves say one last thing to Henrik.
"Henrik?"
"Yes, Commander."
"Please do not kill the enemy next time."
A pause.
"Noted, Commander."
The temperature dropped slightly as he walked down the creaky steps of the basement staircase. With the flashlight he kept on his person, he illuminated the room, which was mostly empty, except for some bags of equipment that they wouldn't be using daily.
The other side of the basement floor was clear, which is where he set the body down carefully.
Mateo couldn't help but look into the man's eyes one last time before he left. His eyes were still open, glassy and shocked, barely recognizing what had happened before his life died out. The gunshot wound was still there, though the flow of blood had been stopped due to the slime encasement.
Mateo set it down and couldn't help but think.
What if Henrik didn't kill him?
If Henrik had shot the man in the arms or legs, he would have been immobilized, and they would've taken him hostage like the woman. But would he have deactivated the paralyzation quirk on Mateo, Akira and Alex?
If he did comply, they would have been able to bring him back to base and interrogate him. They would have figured out who this 'King' figure was, the plans the villains had for attacking, hideouts and more. If they forced him to their side, they would've even been able to use his paralyzation ability on other hostiles.
Mateo wondered what even pushed the villains to take the path that they went on. The man in front of him looked like he was in his thirties. Dark hair that was moderately groomed, the way he spoke felt like he was educated. He could've been a high-school teacher or professor, if the war didn't exist.
So what put him on this path? Power? Greed? Love of chaos? Was this whole war organized? Or were they just random villains with random, individual motives?
But then the reality hit him again—the weight of the corpse he'd just carried, the stillness of those glassy eyes. His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat. This wasn't some philosophical debate. This was death. Real, final, irreversible death. And he'd been part of it.
Mateo's hands began to shake. The basement suddenly felt smaller, the walls pressing in. The smell of damp concrete mixed with something else—something metallic and wrong. He pressed his palms against his temples, trying to steady his breathing.
Get it together, he told himself, but his mind kept circling back to those eyes. The way they'd gone from focused and threatening to... nothing. Just empty glass.
Mateo shook his head repeatedly, but the trembling wouldn't stop. Henrik was right. There was no benefit in 'what ifs' and 'could'ves'. The deed had already been done, and there was no going back. They would have to play with the cards they had dealt themselves.
Mateo knocked himself on his helmet repeatedly, the sharp taps against metal grounding him slightly. He needed to get used to this. To the sight of death. Why did he get on this path? To kill the people that took everything away from him, right? To destroy every villain alive, and mercilessly murder the one who had destroyed his home, his mother, and his brother on that fateful night.
But how could he avenge them when the sight of this man—who he didn't even kill with his own hands—made it feel like a lead ball was sitting at the bottom of his stomach? When his hands wouldn't stop shaking and his breath came in short, uneven gasps?
Mateo forced himself to take a deep breath, then another. This is what they deserved. Like Henrik said, these people wouldn't have the thoughts he was thinking when they sent an explosion to annihilate them, so neither would he.
He would do anything. Anything to let his brother rest in peace.
Anything to achieve his dream.
Even if it meant learning to live with the weight of corpses on his shoulders.
As Mateo climbed back up the stairs, he was a little surprised to find someone already there, waiting for him.
Henrik stood waiting by means of resting on the building's pillar, his eyes still hard.
"Hey, Mateo," he said.
"Hey, Henrik," Mateo responded flatly.
Henrik was quiet for a moment, as if he was thinking about what to say. Then he spoke.
"Do you think I was too harsh on them?"
Huh, Mateo thought. He didn't really think Henrik was one to care about what other people thought. He wasn't one that talked that much either.
"Honestly, you were kind of an asshole," Mateo replied.
Henrik gave a short laugh, though it sounded more like a dry cough. "I guess that's true. Do you think I made the right decision by shooting him?"
Henrik voiced the question in a way that made it sound—not like he felt bad or was asking for sympathy—but more like he was asking to be validated.
"Like you said, no point in worrying about 'what ifs'. Whatever happens, happens."
Henrik nodded his head slowly, though there was something more pressing on Mateo's mind.
"You guys ran into another villain?" Mateo asked as they walked to the Public Service counter.
"Yeah," Henrik replied. "It was just one person though. A guy our age, or maybe even younger."
"Did you...?" Mateo started.
"No. Ran away once backup came," Henrik scoffed. "When we faced him, we called the B-1 squad. Even though they were farther away, Inferno managed to make it in time. Then the guy managed to run away once he was outmatched, barely escaping with his tail between his legs."
"Ah," Mateo nodded in understanding. Back then, he had called Henrik and Akira, but they were unable to respond. He didn't call Reeves or the B-1 and B-3 because he thought they would be too far away. He didn't even consider the fact that Inferno could fly with his fire quirk, though he wondered what would have happened if Inferno, the only one who could close large distances in a short time, had gone to Alex and Mateo, instead of Henrik and Akira. Would they be alive now?
"Yeah," Henrik continued. "After that, since we heard your call, we decided to rush towards you guys while Inferno dealt with him. He said that the villain mysteriously vanished once they turned a bend. Even after rummaging and burning through nearby buildings, it was like he had completely vanished. Not a single trace of his presence was left."
"Wow. So he's still a threat," Mateo wondered. "Was the guy tough? His quirk, I mean?"
Henrik's expression darkened, and for the first time since Mateo had known him, he saw something that looked almost like fear flicker across Henrik's face. His jaw clenched as he stared at nothing, lost in the memory.
"Yeah. Especially for Akira." Henrik's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I can't do justice in explaining how it works—I'm not even sure I completely understand how it works—but it was like the guy could create, or at least fuse animals together, control them and use them to attack people."
Henrik's hands balled into fists at his sides. "We had to fight literal monstrosities, Mateo. Things that shouldn't exist. One looked like it used to be a dog, but..." He swallowed hard. "But it had this armored plated shell grafted onto its back, like from a turtle or something worse. And these extra claws—not normal claws, but these curved, serrated things that looked like they'd been ripped off some kind of predator and jammed into its paws. The worst part was its eyes. Still had a dog's eyes, but they were... they were screaming. Silently screaming."
Mateo felt his stomach turn again, but Henrik wasn't finished.
"Another one looked like it had been a bear, but with these long, muscular gorilla arms that hung down to the ground. And the head..." Henrik's voice cracked slightly. "Mateo, the head was a hippo's, but wrong. Too big for the body, with these massive jaws that kept opening and closing like it was trying to bite through the air itself. The sound it made—this wet, choking roar—like it was drowning in its own throat."
Henrik rubbed his face with both hands, trying to scrub away the memory. "These things weren't just hard to kill—they were abominations. You could see the seams where different parts had been fused together. And the worst part? You could feel that these things were sentient. They were fighting us, but not because they wanted to. They were being controlled, forced to attack against their will. I could see it in their eyes—the confusion, the pain, the desperate plea for someone to end their suffering."
Mateo felt cold sweat beading on his forehead. "That's... that's horrific."
"Akira couldn't even kill them," Henrik continued, his voice hollow. "And I'm sure you know why. She just kept trying to talk to them, to calm them down like they were normal animals. But they weren't normal anymore. They were tortured into existence, and every second they lived was agony."
Yes, Mateo knew. Akira's quirk was 'Chimera'—an animal companion that could transform into any animal that existed, as long as it was under the 150kg weight limit. To see animals morphed into whole different kinds of beasts, and having Akira fight them when her best friend was an animal itself—it had to be gut-wrenching.
No wonder she gave so much pushback when Henrik killed the man.
"I had to put them down myself," Henrik whispered. "While Akira just stood there crying. And even when they died, they looked... grateful. Like death was the first mercy they'd been shown."
The two of them walked in silence for a moment, both lost in their respective horrors from the day.
As they reached the Public Counter, Mateo saw Reeves crouched down on the cracked tile floor. In front of her, placed resting on the ground, was the woman that had been paralyzed and taken captive by the B-2 team.
She was still unconscious, though the toxin that had caused it was neutralized, so she was practically asleep. Her chrome armor had been stripped away, revealing nothing but the tight, black full bodysuit. Her chest fell and rose steadily.
"Everyone, stand on guard if something happens," Reeves said as she prepared to wake her up, no doubt to interrogate her, though Mateo doubted they had to worry. Reeves had already demonstrated how incredibly strong she was. He was sure they were safe.
She opened a bottle of water and splashed it on the woman's face. As she woke up slowly, Reeves gave her a sharp slap on the cheek to accelerate the process.
Her eyelids fluttered open, pupils still dilated in confusion as her eyes scrambled from side to side.
"W-w-what happened?" she asked in delirium. "Alan? King? Where am I?"
"You're right here with us, Eschart, in a room full of the heroes you abandoned," Reeves spoke harshly as she pointed a bright light right at her eyes in another attempt to bring her fully to reality.
The way Reeves said it—heroes you abandoned—made Mateo's breath catch. The woman's reaction confirmed it. Her face went pale, and she flinched as if Reeves had struck her again.
"Wait. I know that voice," Eschart said as her speech became less slurred and her pupils became smaller and more contracted. A bead of sweat ran down her temple despite the cool air. "Petal? Is that you?"
Reeves' jaw tightened at the name, but she pressed forward. "We don't have time for chit-chat." She gripped Eschart's long hair, but not as tightly as before—more as a warning than real violence. "I want you to tell me who sent you. Who's organizing this madness? Who is your leader? Where are you supposed to go next?"
Eschart's eyes darted around the room, taking in all the faces watching her. Her breathing quickened, and Mateo could see her hands trembling slightly. "Petal. Seriously." Her voice wavered despite her attempt at defiance. "Do you expect me to leak everything we've worked hard for? I may not be a goody-two-shoes like you, but I'm not a snitch either."
"Eschart..." Reeves seethed, her voice growing dangerously low. Mateo could see her restraining herself, her free hand clenched so tight her knuckles had gone white. "My soldier said you mentioned someone named 'King'. Is he the one controlling this organization? People's lives are at stake! Millions have died already!"
Eschart's facade cracked for just a moment—a flash of genuine anguish crossed her face before she steeled herself again. "Like I said, I'm not going to say anything."
"Then how about we make a deal," Reeves said, her voice growing even lower, speaking as if she and Eschart were the only ones in the room. "You tell us all the information you've gathered working on the other side. I'll vouch for you with AA when this is all over, saying you were working undercover, and your desertion was just a cover-up. All I need is for you to—"
"No," Eschart said resolutely, though her eyes were trembling, clearly considering the options. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breathing became more ragged. "Fuck you, Petal. I'm not going to—"
"So be it," Reeves said as she delivered a precise strike to Eschart's jaw, knocking her out before she could finish.