My short nod felt like a stone dropped into a calm pond, creating inevitable ripples of consequence. Kirishima's face immediately lit up with fiery determination, while Todoroki, though still looking doubtful, gave a sharp nod in return. Iida let out a long sigh, a sound that was a mixture of disappointment and the resignation of a friend who would not abandon his comrades, no matter how foolish their decision. Midoriya, on the other hand, looked at me with a complicated expression—admiration for my courage, but also a deep fear of the danger we were about to face.
"We can't just walk out the front door," Momo said, her calm, analytical voice immediately taking over, pulling us all back to reality. She was now fully in her strategic leader mode, her self-doubt replaced by a cool competence. "This hospital is on high alert. The pro heroes and police are likely still around. We need to move like ghosts."
Our first escape plan was formed not on a battlefield, but in the silence of a dimly lit hospital room. This was our first mission as a team of rebels. Momo, with her incredible Creation Quirk, became the center of our operation. She created a set of tiny ear communicators from her hairpin, allowing us to communicate without a sound. She transformed some fabric from a spare blanket into simple hats and scarves as a basic disguise.
Iida, with his deep knowledge of rules and schedules, became our logistics planner. "The nurses' shift change on this floor happens in fifteen minutes," he whispered. "The corridor will be quietest then. We can use the service elevator at the end of the hall; it doesn't have a security camera."
Kirishima and I acted as lookouts. He would check one direction, I the other. Our job was to ensure the path was clear. Finally, we were ready. Wearing our makeshift disguises and communicating through whispers in our communicators, we moved. Every step in the silent corridor felt like a crime. Every squeak of a shoe on the linoleum floor sounded like an explosion. We managed to reach the service elevator undetected, our hearts pounding. As the metal doors closed, separating us from the safety of the hospital, we all knew we had passed the point of no return.
The train ride to Kamino Ward in Yokohama felt like a journey to another world. The five of us sat in a crowded car, trying not to draw attention in our ridiculous disguises. Midoriya and Iida wore mismatched glasses and hats. Kirishima wore a hoodie with his hair down, which made him look odd. Todoroki just wore a black wig and sunglasses, but his powerful aura was still palpable. I myself wore a formal black suit that Momo had bought from a thrift store, making it look like I was going to a funeral, not rescuing someone.
"Remember," I said for the umpteenth time, my voice low. "This is an intelligence mission, not an assault mission. We don't fight. We go in, we observe, we look for an opening. If there's a chance to grab Bakugo without a fight, we take it. If not, we immediately retreat and give the information to the pro heroes. No stupid heroic acts. Got it, Midoriya?"
Midoriya, who had been muttering to himself while analyzing possible scenarios, flinched and nodded frantically.
As the train sped along, I felt a strange vibration from my pocket. Not my phone. It was the Yozakura wooden token. The vibration was cold and very faint, pulsing with a slow rhythm. It didn't feel like Akame's sharp echo. This was something else. Something vast, ancient, and... wrong. The dragon's heartbeat in my chest also became agitated, not with the anticipation of a fight, but with a deep discomfort, as if an animal were sensing the presence of an apex predator that was very, very far away. 'What is this?' I thought, my hand unconsciously gripping the token. 'Another echo? But this feels... like a hungry void.' I didn't understand, but it added another layer of tension to our already dangerous mission.
Meanwhile, in her quiet office, Ryukyu stared at a small red dot moving steadily on a digital map of Japan. The micro-tracker she had secretly slipped into the seam of my hospital pants was working perfectly. She watched the dot stop at a train station, then continue its journey toward Yokohama. She let out a long sigh, a mixture of a commander's anger at having her orders ignored and a mentor's worry watching her ward walk into danger. She knew she should have stopped me. She should have placed a guard in front of my door. But a part of her... the small part that felt that draconic resonance... wanted to see what I would do. Wanted to see if her insane trust in me had any basis.
She picked up her special phone, a direct encrypted line. "Nezu-san," she said, her voice calm but urgent. "It's Ryukyu. Our asset is on the move. He's on his way to Kamino. Yes... I know. I'm certain he and a few of his friends think they can be heroes. I've already placed a covert surveillance team there to watch from a distance. But... I have a bad feeling about this. Kamino... there's something wrong with that place."
We arrived in Kamino as night was falling. This district felt like a scar on the face of a modern city. The buildings were older, grimier. The air was filled with the smell of cheap food and a faint desperation. Using the signal from Momo's tracking device, we quickly found our target. An old, uninviting-looking bar, squeezed between two dilapidated apartment buildings. Its rusty sign read "Hideout Bar."
We immediately took up a position in a dark, filthy alley across the street, hiding behind a large, foul-smelling dumpster. From here, we began our reconnaissance. My heart was pounding. The strange pulse from my dragon and the Yozakura token grew stronger here. It felt like being near the den of something very old and very powerful.
"There's something very wrong with this place," I whispered, voicing my feelings.
Just as I said that, the door of a large warehouse next to the bar creaked open. Two figures I recognized—Dabi and Mr. Compress—came out, pushing a large cart covered with a tarp. I could see the horrific humanoid shape beneath it. They were moving a Nomu.
"So the warehouse is the factory," Todoroki murmured beside me.
"And the bar is the entrance," Midoriya added.
We realized this was much bigger than just a hideout. This was their center of operations. We hid deeper in the shadows as Dabi and Mr. Compress passed our alley, unaware of our presence.
After they were gone, we began to plan our next move. It was clear that Bakugo was likely inside the bar, not in the dangerous Nomu warehouse.
"We can't just rush in," Iida said firmly. "That's suicide."
"He's right," I said. "We need a smarter plan. We need to separate the guards outside from the main entrance."
I looked at all of them, a crazy plan beginning to form in my mind, a plan based on misdirection and perfect teamwork. "Alright, listen," I whispered. "This is what we'll do. Midoriya, Iida, you two go to the end of the block over there. Create a sound diversion. Nothing too big, just enough to make the guards in front of the bar turn their heads and check it out. Todoroki, when they're distracted, use your ice to create a thick wall of fog along this street, give us visual cover."
I turned to Kirishima. "You and me. When the fog is up, we'll approach the side wall of the bar. We'll look for a way in from there. We won't go in. We'll just look for a weak point for further reconnaissance."
It was a plan fraught with risk. But it was our only chance. They all nodded in agreement. We synchronized our timing.
Iida and Midoriya left first, disappearing into the darkness. A few minutes later, we heard a loud clatter of falling metal from the end of the street, followed by the brief whoosh of Iida's engines. The two guards in front of the bar immediately turned, weapons raised, and walked cautiously toward the source of the sound.
"Now, Todoroki!" I whispered.
Todoroki placed his hand on the ground. A thin layer of ice crept across the asphalt, and quickly, he used his fire to create steam, generating a thick fog that enveloped the street.
"Let's go, Kirishima!"
The two of us ran across the street under the cover of the fog, arriving at the side wall of the bar, which was made of old brick. Kirishima hardened his fingers, ready to start chipping away at the wall. But I stopped him. I saw something. A small, high window, covered by a rotting wooden board. It was a much better entry point.
We worked together to climb up, and with a little effort, managed to pry the board loose without a sound. I was the first to peek inside. The sight made my blood run cold. I could see the inside of the bar. I saw Kurogiri behind the counter, calmly wiping a glass. I saw Toga and Twice playing cards at a table. I saw Spinner and Magne guarding the door.
And then, I saw him. In the middle of the room, tied to a chair, was Katsuki Bakugo. He looked angry, defiant, and unharmed. Around him stood Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi, and Mr. Compress.
We had found him. But he was in the middle of the most venomous snake pit in Japan.
I signaled for Kirishima to be quiet, and I took out my ear communicator, tuning it to the frequency used by Midoriya and the others. My heart pounded as I prepared to report what I saw.
"Alright, team," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Phase one... is a success. I... I have eyes on him."