Era

15

Era fell through the warp gate with wild swings of her knife and a vicious snarl etched deep across her face. The only thing holding back the tide of walls closing in and I won't I can't go back was the fact that she didn't know of anyone in Phoenix with a warping quirk that worked quite like this, and that anyone who knew her, knew what she was and what she could do, would have killed her while her guard was down and transported her unconscious body.

As it was, she would pay back her kidnappers' lack of foresight with blood and pain and a bitter stream of curses.

Darkness still clouded her vision, but Era felt her knife catch on soft flesh as she stumbled forward, heard cries of pain and the squelch of gore when she ripped her blade through anything that came too close.

"Kurogiri, why does she have a knife?" A voice whined, childish petulance tempered by something harsh and rasping. "I thought this was just a low level NPC."

Blinking the shadows from her eyes, Era whirled around on the speaker with a vicious snarl and found herself face to face with a... hand? Man?

Villains. She fucking hated villains.

"If you don't know who I am," she spat, drawing her bloodied weapon close, "then I suggest you let me go before you realize your mistake."

"Ugh, she's so annoying. I hate when they talk like that."

Era bristled at how he spoke, not to her but about her; but she settled herself and stole a moment to see where she'd been transported.

A large, empty warehouse greeted her, arching above and around her into inky blackness through which she could barely make out countless figures roaming restless at the fringes of sight. Closer and more easily visible was the circle of people around her, keeping a wary distance from the threatening glint of her knife. And, of course, the only man who had spoken. Lanky, ashen-faced, bedraggled pale blue hair that was kept out of his face by the large hand that enveloped most of the front of his head. Blazing red eyes stared out from between the corpse-like fingers, and for a moment Era felt a lurch in her stomach before she quickly stomped out the weakness. Behind him, she could see the culprit of the warp gate himself, tall and wraith-like, the listless smoke that made up his body neatly tucked into a suit vest and slacks.

"You should drop the knife, child," said smoke-man, stepping forward. "Cooperate, and you will not be harmed."

You're in control, you make the pain stop—

"Fuck you," Era ground out through clenched teeth. "Fucking make me. Or are you a bunch of cowards?"

"Kurogiri," the man with far too many hands whined, turning towards the man with the warp quirk—Kurogiri, then. She'd remember that. "This one's so much work. Can't we just kill it and get another one?"

"I'd like to see you try, motherfucker," muttered Era beneath her breath, eyes darting around at shifting movement in her periphery. Shit. This was going to get ugly.

"Shigaraki Tomura," said Kurogiri almost chidingly, as if lightly scolding a child for drawing on the walls. "There is a schedule to keep."

Shigaraki—another name to remember, another fucking name, and the fact that they were letting them slip so readily meant that they either didn't think her much of a threat, or they thought she'd be dead long before she could make use of the knowledge—Shigaraki reached up to scratch vigorously at his neck. Nervous tick. Era quickly catalogued that as well.

"Fine," he sighed, hands dropping limply to his sides once more. "But we'll need to tie her up or something. I can't have her stabbing my followers."

"I'm right here," Era snapped. "Talk to me, or get the fuck out of my face."