Phalanx's Drabbles

Rise of The Supervillain

"For the majority of Post-Quirk history, there were seldom that we could definitively classify as someone "super". Most of the time, there were only heroes and villains, and their Quirks, as useful and powerful as they are, do not hold a candle to what we had already dreamed of back when there were none. But there are exceptions; men and women so truly and utterly remarkable that it would be a sin to not attach the word "super" onto their profession. All Might is one such remarkable man.

As generations passed, we step ever and ever closer to a world of superheroics. But as this new age dawns upon us, I can't help feel but feel worried. Good cannot exist without evil. Every protagonist needs to have an antagonist. And every Superhero needs their Supervillain.

And when this so-called 'Supervillain' comes out into the spotlight...Will the heroes survive? Will anyone?"

The clanking of their chains alerted him to his quarry.

Akira glanced back down into the room, through the one-way bulletproof glass as he inspected his first wayward piece. An associate of an associate, Saiko had said, chained up in the deepest bowels of his lair. His quarry was a colossal, well-built fellow, with fiery red hair and large canines that poked through his mouth. From afar, the keratin structures almost looked like small tusks, in a way. The man was chained spread-eagle to the upper and lower side of the room, entirely sedated as he hang there listlessly. Layered with tungsten and made out of reinforced steel, the cell he was in was hardly fit for a lower-class lieutenant such as him, but it was the only one he had closest to his original capture spot.

Carefully adjusting his black-and-gold pinstripe suit, Akira looked to Saiko. "Are we sure that he is associated with the MLA?" he questioned cautiously. The man certainly doesn't look MLA-like. He looked—and was—a street punk through and through. In addition, if the man hadn't been a part of the MLA, then all of their extra precautions into getting him would be for nothing. And Akira hated excessive waste.

The grey-haired girl scoffed, "Of course he is. The very lowest rungs of his empire, a lieutenant of one of the many gangs that Re-Destro has been covertly running." she took a sip out of her green tea boba, draining the plastic cup of all of it's worth. "Essentially useless to us now, unless you want him to be your agent or something."

"I don't plan for him to be." Akira replied coldly. "I was merely just testing your team's skills, Saiko. Call it a belated induction trial if you will." he drawled, looking straight at the petite girl after.

She let her clutches go at the boba for the moment, training him with an annoyed pout that completely went against her sophisticated school girl persona. "Jeez~ Won't you stop being a worrywart already? I think we both could perfectly say that I am plenty loyal to you right now." she said, absentmindedly twirling her long side bangs, exasperated beyond belief.

"It's not your loyalty I'm worried about, it was your competence. I was getting worried that your heavenly school persona would consume you sooner or later. I'm glad to know that I was wrong." Akira countered, face betraying not a single hint of genuine relief.

Despite this, Saiko grinned widely, sudden joviality returning like a thunderbolt, prancing up to him and preparing to flick his forehead before Meyers fluidly dodged, his face just short of her outstretched finger. The teen pouted before turning herself around with a harrumph, walking away to the door, "Gosh! Fine, then! Go be the closet tsundere that you are, but meanwhile—" her face just slightly turned back, allowing Meyers a hint of her infuriatingly smug smile. "I'm going to play some video games~ Woohoo!" Saiko Intelli taunted back cheerfully, before disappearing behind the set of double doors that marked the exit.

Alone in the upper platformed overlooking the prisoner's room, Akira sighed, running a hand through his pure white hair, careful not to completely destroy his hairline. He could be disheveled when he was alone. Then, and only then, can he show his weakness. He looked at the doors with a worn smile, the only sound in the room the near-silent drone of the AC.