[Temporary Hiatus]Echoes Of Rebellion: Reign Of Puppetmaster

The weight of a promise.

It had been a year since that night in the garbage truck. A year since Izuku and the mouse-his only companion-had escaped the lab that had once been their prison. The passage of time had blurred into an indistinct haze. The only constants were the alley, the constant sense of danger, and Nezu.

Nezu, the strange, intelligent mouse who had helped him escape and whose presence had come to mean everything to Izuku. Nezu had always been a bit of an enigma-quiet, often distant but still close, and always out at strange hours. Izuku had come to rely on the little mouse for everything-his hope, his sense of direction, and his only form of companionship in the silent days and nights. But something about Nezu's behavior had begun to weigh on Izuku's mind.

Every day, Nezu would leave early in the morning, disappearing into the labyrinth of the city streets. Every night, he would return, always a bit late, always with a stack of papers in his paws. It was as if he had a purpose-something Izuku didn't fully understand. But every time Nezu returned, he would look at Izuku, eyes brimming with that unreadable spark, and reassure him, "I'll pay you back for everything, Izuku. Every favor. I promise."

But what did that even mean? Izuku had begun to wonder. He had given so much for the both of them-the food, the stolen money, the protection-yet every time he did so Nezu always insisted that he owed Izuku more, as if Izuku was the one who needed to be repaid. The dynamic between them was beginning to feel... uneven. Nezu did not speak much of the past anymore, only of the future, of plans, of a world beyond this alley, and the promises he would fulfill. And Izuku... he wasn't sure anymore if he should believe it all.

Life in the alley had become their routine, a silent existence of scraping by, hiding, and surviving. It wasn't glamorous, but it was theirs. Sometimes, when Nezu wasn't around, Izuku would walk the streets, his heart racing with a mixture of dread and determination, as he stole what they needed. Food, supplies, whatever it took to get by. His small hands would slip into pockets, swipe from vendors, or sometimes sneak into stores late at night. It was the only way he knew how to survive, but every time he did, there was that voice in his head that whispered doubt. Was this really what freedom felt like?

The world outside felt cold, indifferent. As much as Izuku had fought to escape that hellish lab, the freedom he now had wasn't the one he'd imagined. It was a fractured, uncertain kind of existence, filled with more questions than answers. It wasn't the kind of life he'd wanted-not for him, not for Nezu.

One evening, as the sun set and the alley grew dark, Izuku found himself pacing, a nervous energy coursing through his veins. Nezu had gone out again, as usual, and Izuku hadn't seen him for hours. The sky above was clouded over, heavy and pregnant with a storm that seemed to match the brewing unease in his heart.

He glanced toward the end of the alley, where the shadows gathered like vultures, waiting. But there was no sign of Nezu yet.

Izuku sank against the crumbling brick wall of their shelter, his eyes downcast, staring at the pile of old newspapers that had accumulated near their makeshift home. He didn't know where Nezu went when he disappeared-he didn't ask. But the longer it went on, the more Izuku found himself wondering. Was Nezu really working for their future? Or had they just traded one cage for another?

The wind howled, stirring the trash that littered the ground, but Izuku was too lost in his thoughts to notice. He thought back to the promises Nezu had made, the promises that echoed in his ears every night.

"I'll pay you back, Izuku. Every favor."

Izuku clenched his fists. He wanted to believe. He really did. But the words felt like they were slipping through his fingers, like sand in the wind.