Armory of Anger

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The night air was cool against my skin as I made my way to Serpant's hideout. My mind was still buzzing, the anger from earlier was still boiling just beneath the surface. I couldn't stop thinking about those kids, about Eri, and the fact that the police weren't doing anything to save them. Every step I took fueled the fire inside me.

Serpant's place wasn't too far from the police station, tucked away in a part of the city most people avoided aka the underground. Fitting, considering what he dealt with. I knew he'd be awake—Serpant never really slept, and tonight, I needed his particular set of skills.

The door creaked open before I even had a chance to knock, revealing Serpant standing there with that usual unreadable look on his face as if he was waiting there for me... knowing that I would come. His eyes flicked over me, taking in my tense posture, the clenched fists, the burning anger in my eyes. He didn't say a word, just stepped aside to let me in. I was so thankful for that. 

Serpant closed the door behind me, the lock clicking into place with an ominous finality.

Serpant: You're pissed.

Me: Understatement of the year.

He gave me a look, one eyebrow slightly raised. He was always like this—cool, collected, like nothing in the world could ever faze him but he wouldn't be like that. Not if he knew what I knew... not if he saw the kids I saw. But he knew me well enough to understand when I was on the edge.

Serpant: On a scale from 1 to 10, how angry are we talking here?

I paused, considering his question. 

How angry was I? 

The thought of those kids, of Eri, the uselessness of the police, it all boiled over again, and the answer came out without hesitation.

Me: Eleven.

Serpant's expression didn't change, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. At first I didn't underestand what it was but let's just say it was something along the line of my anger is your anger and yours is mine....we deal with this shit together kind of thing. 

He turned and started walking deeper into the hideout, motioning for me to follow. I trailed behind him, my anger coiling tighter with every step. I needed to do something, anything, to release this pent-up rage.

We entered a room I hadn't seen before—bigger, darker, and packed with even more weapons than the last. Serpant walked over to a table in the center of the room, flipping on a light that cast harsh shadows across the walls. He began laying out weapons in front of me, one by one, each more dangerous than the last.

Serpant: Alright. Since we're at an eleven, let's start with something light.

He picked up a small knife, sleek and deadly.

Serpant: This is your basic switchblade. Quiet, efficient, and easy to conceal.

He placed it on the table and immediately moved on, not waiting for a reaction. Next was a handgun, then a set of throwing stars, followed by a pair of brass knuckles that looked like they could break bones with a single hit.

Me: We're still at an eleven, Serpant.

He paused, giving me a sideways glance before smirking.

Serpant: Fair enough.

He turned and opened a cabinet, pulling out a small, sleek case. When he opened it, my eyes widened. Inside were several vials of some glowing, viscous liquid, next to what looked like syringes and a dart gun.

Serpant: Neurotoxin. Paralyzes in seconds. Fatal in minutes if you want it to be. No mess, no fuss.

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to match the anger I felt.

Me: More.

Serpant raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. He closed the case and walked over to a large, locked chest. After fiddling with a key for a moment, he opened it to reveal something that made my breath catch—a high-powered rifle with a scope, several grenades, and a set of customized explosives.

Serpant: Now we're getting somewhere. This is military-grade. You want to blow something up? Take out a building? This'll do it.

THAT'S EXATLY WHAT I NEED!

THEY NEED TO BURN FOR THEIR SINS!

I stared at the arsenal in front of me, feeling the weight of the decision I was about to make. This wasn't just about being angry anymore—this was about doing something, making a statement. But even with all this firepower, it still didn't feel like enough.

Me:  I need everything. I need to make them pay.

Serpant studied me for a moment before nodding. He began packing everything into a large duffel bag, moving with a precision that showed just how much he understood my determination. 

Serpant: You're going to war, Izuku. You better be ready for what comes after.

I nodded, the fire inside me still burning hot.

Me: I've never been more ready.... I'll make them all scared.

Serpant handed me the duffel bag, heavy with the weight of destruction. As I slung it over my shoulder, I could feel the cold metal of the weapons pressing against my back, reminding me of the power I now carried.

Serpant: Don't lose yourself in this, kid. Remember why you're doing it.

I didn't respond, just gave him a sharp nod before turning to leave. As I walked out into the night, the weight of the weapons was nothing compared to the weight of the resolve in my chest. I was done waiting, done hoping someone else would fix things.

This time, I was taking matters into my own hands. And nothing was going to stop me.

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