(Hey guys If you'd like to support me, feel free to check out my Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/7night There aren't any special rewards for donating, but if I ever receive $50 in a single week, I'll post 2 chapters in one day in that week as a thank-you)
The movie continued with soldiers unleashing a hail of bullets at the squad. Harley, quick on her feet, darted through the chaos, weaving between flying lead as she sprinted toward a nearby boulder. She was looking for better cover, her pigtails bouncing with each stride.
"Harley, no! It's too dangerous!" Toga shouted from the audience, genuine worry in her voice.
But Harley reached the boulder without a scratch, crouching behind it with a grin. From just behind her, TDK slid into position, finding a much smaller rock to hunker down behind—something barely enough to cover his upper body, but better than nothing.
Back in the monitoring room, the cast could clearly see on the overhead screens just how many soldiers were flooding the beach. The sheer numbers lit up across the feeds like a wave of ants, and the realization hit everyone at once.
"They're facing a full-on army…" Nizo muttered to himself, his tone grim. He looked convinced now—utterly certain—that there was no way the squad could make it out alive.
That same thought rippled across most of the heroes present, their expressions sinking. Still, a handful of the students clung to hope, silently wishing for some miracle—a hidden trump card, or maybe even a hero from this world swooping in to turn the tide.
The movie didn't give them any time to dwell on it.
"Zero-two-two-seven is wide open," a blonde agent in the control room called out over comms.
The fat, bearded agent—the same one who had forgotten to check if Weasel could swim—spoke into his headset, his tone all business despite his earlier blunder. "Colonel, dispatch the Detachable Kid. TDK, two o'clock."
"TDK is the Detachable Kid?" Harley asked in surprise on-screen.
"Ohhh, so that's what his name is," Kaminari said, snapping his fingers like he'd just solved a mystery.
Jirō turned to look at him, her face blank and unimpressed.
For the first time, a member of the squad showed a "quirk" that was actually visible to the audience. TDK's arms floated free from his shoulders, detaching completely and hovering in the air like weightless limbs.
"Lizard, look—he's got a power kinda like yours," Pony pointed out with a grin.
"Yeah… I guess," Lizard replied, clearly uncomfortable with the comparison.
On-screen, TDK sent his arms drifting toward the soldiers… only for everyone to notice how painfully slow they were moving. When they finally reached their targets, the detached hands started slapping the soldiers lightly across the face and helmet—more annoying than harmful.
The entire cast, plus Harley herself, turned to give Rick Flag a deadpan stare.
"What the fuck?" they all said in unison.
"I did not pick the team," Flag shot back defensively.
"Well… he's got a point," Sero admitted with a small shrug, begrudgingly acknowledging the explanation.
Back in the movie, the camera shifted to an orange-skinned woman—Mongal—her voice loud and confident.
"Don't worry, Flag! I got the bird!" she yelled.
"No—don't!" Flag shouted back, panic in his tone, but it was too late.
Mongal used the very boulder that Flag and Harley were taking cover behind as a springboard, launching herself into the air with a leap that was far too powerful. She managed to grab one of the landing struts of the hovering helicopter.
The problem became obvious instantly—the sheer force of her jump had thrown the chopper off balance.
In the audience, Aizawa let out a long sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Judging by that jump, she's got some level of super strength. And that's the issue—her own strength overwhelmed the helicopter's weight, and now she's destabilized it," he explained almost absentmindedly. It was his teacher instincts kicking in, offering commentary without realizing it.
Even though the students were glued to the chaotic scene and too tense to respond, they still absorbed his words. Midoriya's mind flashed back to I-Island, remembering how close he had come to causing collateral damage with an overpowered move.
On-screen, the helicopter spiraled out of control. Its spinning blades shredded through trees and soldiers alike, sending blood spraying like a crimson mist.
The students screamed at the grisly sight. Midoriya, Mirio, and the Pussycats moved quickly to cover the children's eyes, but it was already too late—those who saw would never forget it. To the youngest ones, the carnage almost looked like people being turned into "red confetti," but the older ones knew exactly what it was.
Servant could only stare at the screen, jaw tight.
The chaos worsened when one of the helicopter's blades hacked through a tree, sending massive splinters and jagged wooden spikes flying. A shard slammed into Captain Boomerang's head.
"BOOMERANG! NOOO!" Spinner and Twice shouted at the top of their lungs, horrified for their favorite character.
Against all odds, Boomerang was still on his feet, the spike jutting from his skull… until the flaming wreck of the helicopter crashed onto the beach, still skidding along the sand.
The spinning blade came down toward him.
"BOOMER!!!" the two villains screamed again—this time joined by Harley herself—but the impact was unavoidable.
In an instant, Boomerang was gone.
The audience went dead silent at the brutal, messy death. Even the villains sat back, shaken. The shock only deepened when the perspective shifted to Savant.
Gunfire, explosions, and fire filled his vision. Javelin was riddled with bullets. Mongal, unbelievably, was still alive—burning under the twisted wreckage. In the distance, TDK's arms were being gunned down, each hit sending pain surging back to his body as he screamed helplessly.
Savant's eyes darted around. He froze. Then—panic.
Without another word, he turned and bolted for the ocean.
In the theater, the moment they realized what he was doing, the students erupted.
"Yes! Run away! Go to the ocean!" several shouted, cheering like it was the smartest move in the world. Even some of the pro heroes cracked uneasy smiles at the thought of someone escaping the bloodbath.
On-screen, the scene cut to the monitoring room. The fat, bearded tech noticed the movement first. "Savant is off the rails."
Waller's voice came over the comms, sharp and commanding. "Savant, turn back."
The audience's mood shifted instantly to outrage. The order was clear—she was sending him back to his death. Hawks frowned deeply, a guilty shadow crossing his face. He'd worked under a woman not unlike Waller before, and the similarity was unsettling.
Savant kept swimming, ignoring her.
"Savant, I'm warning you—this is desertion," Waller said, her tone like ice.
The fat man in the room opened a compartment on the console, revealing a panel of buttons—each with a picture of a squad member.
The audience collectively froze.
They had forgotten.
Even if you didn't fight… you didn't get to live.
Waller's gaze was locked on the monitors. "Damn it."
She pressed the button.
On-screen, Savant's head erupted in a spray of gore.
The theater went utterly silent again. Dozens of eyes shifted to glare at Waller's cold, emotionless face.
"I guess this operation was a complete failure," All For One finally said, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but there was an edge of curiosity. "Too bad. I was interested in this 'important mission.'"
Nobody liked agreeing with him—but truthfully, they were curious about what could be important enough to risk this slaughter.
Back on the screen, Waller calmly looked up from the monitors. "How's team two holding up?"
Her words snapped everyone in the theater back to attention.
"What?!" Several shouted at once.
The monitor feed switched to a completely different beach—this one calm and quiet, with not a trace of gunfire. The caption identified it as the North Beach.
Everyone was so stunned they didn't even notice the smaller on-screen images showing another roster of characters.
"Congratulations, Bloodsport," Waller said through the comms.
The camera cut to an armored man in black and gold, scanning the area with sharp eyes. "How'd you do it, Waller? There's no one here."
"Let's just say… they were distracted," Waller replied.
The shot widened to reveal four more figures behind him. Then, in bright yellow text across the screen:
THE SUICIDE SQUAD.
The theater stayed quiet for a long moment, too stunned to speak.
(we reached 13 minutes and we are making good progress sorry if you think this chapter is shorter but I wanted to end The chapter here, because I want to give the next chapter a big focus on the aftermath of the beach battle)
(Hey guys If you'd like to support me, feel free to check out my Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/7night There aren't any special rewards for donating, but if I ever receive $50 in a single week, I'll post 2 chapters in one day in that week as a thank-you)
After nearly half a minute of stunned silence, the weight of the beach massacre still hung over the room like a storm cloud. Seven finally exhaled and broke it.
"Alright, guys… I'm gonna give you a small break—twenty minutes—to process everything that happened in the beach battle."
Nobody said anything right away. The cast just sat there, eyes shifting between each other, the monitors, and the floor, like they were afraid to speak first. It took almost a full minute before someone even dared to open their mouth, and even then, their words were hesitant, testing the air.
Seven leaned back slightly, letting them talk amongst themselves. He knew this wasn't a moment for him to lead a conversation—it was better to let them process and vent in their own way, to voice questions instead of spiraling into one of those drawn-out debates that went nowhere.
The chatter was uneven at first. Some whispered to their neighbors, others spoke more loudly about certain moments, but no one sounded at ease.
By the time the twenty minutes passed, all eyes gradually turned to Seven, silently expecting answers.
Principal Nezu—ever the polite one—cleared his throat and tilted his head with his usual unreadable smile. "If I may…"
But before he could continue, Aizawa cut in bluntly, his voice like a whip. "Why the hell didn't you warn us about the blood?"
The room froze again for a second, tension prickling in the air.
Seven shrugged lightly, as if he didn't see the big deal. "Well… I just didn't mention it. And it's not really that important."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed, his tone sharpening. "Not important? There were children and students watching this."
Seven raised a hand toward the two youngest in the room. "First of all—during that twenty-minute break, did any of you even ask the two children? Kota, Eri—cover your ears for a second."
The kids obeyed without question, small hands pressing against their heads.
"They were fine," Seven continued, his voice calm but firm. "Because I did some editing for them. From their perspective, things were a little different—less violent. For example, when Blackguard… exploded? They didn't see the gore. They saw bullets hit his head, and then his head turned into red confetti."
That at least seemed to ease some of the tension in the adults—though only slightly.
"As for the students…" Seven's gaze swept across Class 1-A. "They're going to experience this kind of thing eventually. Better they start seeing the reality now."
"They still have three years before they should be experiencing that," Aizawa shot back, his voice carrying a simmering anger.
Seven let out a low chuckle—though there was no humor in it. "You can't be serious. A bunch of your Class 1-A students have been volunteering themselves for danger from day one—ignoring orders from heroes and teachers, like with that serial killer incident." His words grew sharper. "They nearly died, and what was their punishment? A slap on the wrist. Students get harsher consequences for being late for curfew than they do for running headfirst into lethal situations. And you expect me to believe you don't encourage that behavior?"
That stung enough to pull another stretch of heavy silence from the room. A few heroes shifted uncomfortably, others looked away.
It was Red riot who broke it, scratching the back of his head with an awkward grin. "Sooo… uh, are we gonna talk about the rest of the stuff that happened?" He wasn't trying to dismiss what was said—everyone knew they'd circle back to it—but someone had to break the tension before it got worse.
The silence after the last statement didn't last long before Dust Man leaned forward, brow furrowed.
"What the hell was happening in that beach battle? And what's up with that second team?" he asked, frustration lacing his tone.
Seven folded his arms.
"Well, there's a lot to cover here. So if you guys could ask something specific, it'd help."
Endeavor raised his hand.
"That woman in charge—in the end, when we saw the second team—she mentioned the enemy was distracted. Could you elaborate on that?"
Seven nodded.
"The first team was always meant to be a distraction for the second team. Even though Blackguard betrayed them, the first team still accomplished their purpose—just… in a much messier way than intended."
Ida's eyes widened slightly.
"Wait… did she send them purposefully to die?" he asked, his voice trembling at the possibility.
Seven quickly shook his head.
"No. The plan for the distraction should've been much safer and wouldn't have required any casualties at all… if everything had gone the way it was supposed to. But we all know it didn't."
That answer allowed Ida to breathe again. His shoulders relaxed as relief settled in—it wasn't meant to be a suicide operation. But the thought brought up another question that had been gnawing at him. He raised his arm high.
"Yes, Ida? What's your question?" Seven asked.
Ida lowered his hand, his voice firm now.
"I think it's time you tell us the true meaning behind the nickname of Task Force X."
At that, many others in the room leaned forward, their curiosity clear. Some had already guessed, but they wanted to hear it confirmed.
Seven didn't hesitate.
"It's very simple. Task Force X is a team of supervillains created by the government to take on dangerous missions for them. These missions are often so high-risk that some people call them suicide missions. Anything could go wrong and kill them—as we just saw earlier."
No one was surprised by the answer, but knowing it as fact instead of speculation still left them unsettled.
"And that's why they get their sentences shortened, isn't it?" Dabi asked suddenly, drawing all eyes back to him.
Seven tilted his head.
"Yes, you guessed it so quickly turned to the readers though this part is just my opinion, not a confirmed fact. I don't know the official reasoning, but here's what I think he turned back to the cast
"Because these missions are so dangerous, the villains would naturally prioritize their own safety over the mission's success. Even with bombs in their necks, they'd still likely do things halfheartedly just to survive. But if you offer them sentence reductions, it gives them a tangible reward for completing the mission properly. That way, they focus on actually doing the job instead of just saving their own skins."
A few people nodded, finally understanding the logic—though it didn't mean they agreed with it.
Midoriya frowned.
"But why even do this? Why not just ask their own heroes for help?"
Seven gave a small, knowing smile.
"You'll see the answer to that soon enough." His tone was deliberately mysterious, leaving the group even more curious.
Dust Man scoffed, clearly unimpressed.
"This team is worthless. If we were in the second team's place, we would've destroyed that army easily."
The rest of the League murmured in agreement.
Seven smirked slightly.
"I think you could destroy the army, sure. But I also think you shouldn't underestimate the Suicide Squad."
That made several eyebrows raise.
"Oh really? And why's that?" Dust Man challenged.
"First of all, remember—the first team was meant to be a distraction. Except for Harley and Captain Boomerang, most of them were what I'd consider C- or D-tier villains—at least in my opinion. I don't know every single member well, so that's just my take."
Spinner blinked.
"C-tier? D-tier? What's that supposed to mean?"
Seven chuckled.
"Right, I forgot—you don't have that kind of saying here. Let's put it this way… Dust Man, remember that dumb plan you came up with to take down All Might?"
Dust Man grumbled under his breath.
"Yeah, well… the villains you brought for that are like low-level, barely-threatening types. D-tier means they're stronger than those guys, and C-tier is a step above that. It's just a way of saying they're nowhere near top-tier threats, but not completely useless either."
The explanation clicked for everyone.
"I guess that makes sense," Midnight admitted. "The only ones that were actually useful in that fight were Captain Boomerang and Harley."
"And Boomerang only died because of bad luck," Miss Joke added.
Someone from the back spoke up.
"So… who's on team two? And how strong are they compared to the first team?"
Seven's gaze flicked back to the screen.
"Why don't we find out?"
Everyone's attention snapped toward the Screen again.
The scene cut abruptly to Waller's control room. Upbeat music kicked in—a jarring, almost mocking contrast to the carnage they had just witnessed on the beach. The agents inside were giving each other money, exchanging bills from a bet they'd clearly made beforehand. Some of them laughed loudly, enjoying themselves, while two of the younger agents even started dancing to the music.
The heroes and students stiffened in their seats, expressions hardening. The lighthearted mood in the monitoring room felt wrong—like a deliberate insult to the lives lost mere minutes ago.
Only the villains in the viewing room seemed unaffected. A few even smirked or tapped their feet to the beat, enjoying the track for what it was.
The screen changed again. Now it displayed photos of Team One, one after the other. Each picture appeared alongside a grim visual of their corpse.
Weasel—face pale, fur soaked—shown slumped lifeless in the water where he had drowned.
Mongal—her body blackened and charred—lay twisted in the wreckage from where she had burned to death.
The sight of the corpses made the viewers shift uncomfortably. They were criminals, yes—but seeing them like this, stripped of all the bravado they'd shown earlier, hit differently. For many, the thought settled in: They didn't deserve to die like that.
The next image was of Captain Boomerang. But instead of his full body, the camera showed only his severed arm, still clutching a boomerang mid-grip.
Spinner and Twice both went quiet, their usual energy fading. They each shed a tear—not for the morality of the man, but for the absurd, dark poetry of his end.
"I know it's messed up," Kirishima admitted with an uneasy laugh, "but… his arm like that? It kind of makes his death look a little cool. Even saying it out loud feels wrong."
"Nah," Bakugo said bluntly. "Even if it's screwed up, you're right. That pose is cool—intentional or not."
The next image hit harder. Savant's corpse lay sprawled in the sea, As the camera lingered, a bird landed beside him… the very same bird he had killed earlier that morning. It pecked at him without hesitation.
Tokoyami's voice dropped into a somber, almost philosophical tone.
"An eye for an eye."
Vantablack nodded beside him in agreement.
Then—another sharp cut.
The music shifted. The screen showed a pristine silver toilet with foam bubbling inside it, accompanied by the words: "Three Days Earlier."
(Hey guys If you'd like to support me, feel free to check out my Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/7night There aren't any special rewards for donating, but if I ever receive $50 in a single week, I'll post 2 chapters in one day in that week as a thank-you)
After nearly half a minute of stunned silence, the weight of the beach massacre still hung over the room like a storm cloud. Seven finally exhaled and broke it.
"Alright, guys… I'm gonna give you a small break—twenty minutes—to process everything that happened in the beach battle."
Nobody said anything right away. The cast just sat there, eyes shifting between each other, the monitors, and the floor, like they were afraid to speak first. It took almost a full minute before someone even dared to open their mouth, and even then, their words were hesitant, testing the air.
Seven leaned back slightly, letting them talk amongst themselves. He knew this wasn't a moment for him to lead a conversation—it was better to let them process and vent in their own way, to voice questions instead of spiraling into one of those drawn-out debates that went nowhere.
The chatter was uneven at first. Some whispered to their neighbors, others spoke more loudly about certain moments, but no one sounded at ease.
By the time the twenty minutes passed, all eyes gradually turned to Seven, silently expecting answers.
Principal Nezu—ever the polite one—cleared his throat and tilted his head with his usual unreadable smile. "If I may…"
But before he could continue, Aizawa cut in bluntly, his voice like a whip. "Why the hell didn't you warn us about the blood?"
The room froze again for a second, tension prickling in the air.
Seven shrugged lightly, as if he didn't see the big deal. "Well… I just didn't mention it. And it's not really that important."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed, his tone sharpening. "Not important? There were children and students watching this."
Seven raised a hand toward the two youngest in the room. "First of all—during that twenty-minute break, did any of you even ask the two children? Kota, Eri—cover your ears for a second."
The kids obeyed without question, small hands pressing against their heads.
"They were fine," Seven continued, his voice calm but firm. "Because I did some editing for them. From their perspective, things were a little different—less violent. For example, when Blackguard… exploded? They didn't see the gore. They saw bullets hit his head, and then his head turned into red confetti."
That at least seemed to ease some of the tension in the adults—though only slightly.
"As for the students…" Seven's gaze swept across Class 1-A. "They're going to experience this kind of thing eventually. Better they start seeing the reality now."
"They still have three years before they should be experiencing that," Aizawa shot back, his voice carrying a simmering anger.
Seven let out a low chuckle—though there was no humor in it. "You can't be serious. A bunch of your Class 1-A students have been volunteering themselves for danger from day one—ignoring orders from heroes and teachers, like with that serial killer incident." His words grew sharper. "They nearly died, and what was their punishment? A slap on the wrist. Students get harsher consequences for being late for curfew than they do for running headfirst into lethal situations. And you expect me to believe you don't encourage that behavior?"
That stung enough to pull another stretch of heavy silence from the room. A few heroes shifted uncomfortably, others looked away.
It was Red riot who broke it, scratching the back of his head with an awkward grin. "Sooo… uh, are we gonna talk about the rest of the stuff that happened?" He wasn't trying to dismiss what was said—everyone knew they'd circle back to it—but someone had to break the tension before it got worse.
The silence after the last statement didn't last long before Dust Man leaned forward, brow furrowed.
"What the hell was happening in that beach battle? And what's up with that second team?" he asked, frustration lacing his tone.
Seven folded his arms.
"Well, there's a lot to cover here. So if you guys could ask something specific, it'd help."
Endeavor raised his hand.
"That woman in charge—in the end, when we saw the second team—she mentioned the enemy was distracted. Could you elaborate on that?"
Seven nodded.
"The first team was always meant to be a distraction for the second team. Even though Blackguard betrayed them, the first team still accomplished their purpose—just… in a much messier way than intended."
Ida's eyes widened slightly.
"Wait… did she send them purposefully to die?" he asked, his voice trembling at the possibility.
Seven quickly shook his head.
"No. The plan for the distraction should've been much safer and wouldn't have required any casualties at all… if everything had gone the way it was supposed to. But we all know it didn't."
That answer allowed Ida to breathe again. His shoulders relaxed as relief settled in—it wasn't meant to be a suicide operation. But the thought brought up another question that had been gnawing at him. He raised his arm high.
"Yes, Ida? What's your question?" Seven asked.
Ida lowered his hand, his voice firm now.
"I think it's time you tell us the true meaning behind the nickname of Task Force X."
At that, many others in the room leaned forward, their curiosity clear. Some had already guessed, but they wanted to hear it confirmed.
Seven didn't hesitate.
"It's very simple. Task Force X is a team of supervillains created by the government to take on dangerous missions for them. These missions are often so high-risk that some people call them suicide missions. Anything could go wrong and kill them—as we just saw earlier."
No one was surprised by the answer, but knowing it as fact instead of speculation still left them unsettled.
"And that's why they get their sentences shortened, isn't it?" Dabi asked suddenly, drawing all eyes back to him.
Seven tilted his head.
"Yes, you guessed it so quickly turned to the readers though this part is just my opinion, not a confirmed fact. I don't know the official reasoning, but here's what I think he turned back to the cast
"Because these missions are so dangerous, the villains would naturally prioritize their own safety over the mission's success. Even with bombs in their necks, they'd still likely do things halfheartedly just to survive. But if you offer them sentence reductions, it gives them a tangible reward for completing the mission properly. That way, they focus on actually doing the job instead of just saving their own skins."
A few people nodded, finally understanding the logic—though it didn't mean they agreed with it.
Midoriya frowned.
"But why even do this? Why not just ask their own heroes for help?"
Seven gave a small, knowing smile.
"You'll see the answer to that soon enough." His tone was deliberately mysterious, leaving the group even more curious.
Dust Man scoffed, clearly unimpressed.
"This team is worthless. If we were in the second team's place, we would've destroyed that army easily."
The rest of the League murmured in agreement.
Seven smirked slightly.
"I think you could destroy the army, sure. But I also think you shouldn't underestimate the Suicide Squad."
That made several eyebrows raise.
"Oh really? And why's that?" Dust Man challenged.
"First of all, remember—the first team was meant to be a distraction. Except for Harley and Captain Boomerang, most of them were what I'd consider C- or D-tier villains—at least in my opinion. I don't know every single member well, so that's just my take."
Spinner blinked.
"C-tier? D-tier? What's that supposed to mean?"
Seven chuckled.
"Right, I forgot—you don't have that kind of saying here. Let's put it this way… Dust Man, remember that dumb plan you came up with to take down All Might?"
Dust Man grumbled under his breath.
"Yeah, well… the villains you brought for that are like low-level, barely-threatening types. D-tier means they're stronger than those guys, and C-tier is a step above that. It's just a way of saying they're nowhere near top-tier threats, but not completely useless either."
The explanation clicked for everyone.
"I guess that makes sense," Midnight admitted. "The only ones that were actually useful in that fight were Captain Boomerang and Harley."
"And Boomerang only died because of bad luck," Miss Joke added.
Someone from the back spoke up.
"So… who's on team two? And how strong are they compared to the first team?"
Seven's gaze flicked back to the screen.
"Why don't we find out?"
Everyone's attention snapped toward the Screen again.
The scene cut abruptly to Waller's control room. Upbeat music kicked in—a jarring, almost mocking contrast to the carnage they had just witnessed on the beach. The agents inside were giving each other money, exchanging bills from a bet they'd clearly made beforehand. Some of them laughed loudly, enjoying themselves, while two of the younger agents even started dancing to the music.
The heroes and students stiffened in their seats, expressions hardening. The lighthearted mood in the monitoring room felt wrong—like a deliberate insult to the lives lost mere minutes ago.
Only the villains in the viewing room seemed unaffected. A few even smirked or tapped their feet to the beat, enjoying the track for what it was.
The screen changed again. Now it displayed photos of Team One, one after the other. Each picture appeared alongside a grim visual of their corpse.
Weasel—face pale, fur soaked—shown slumped lifeless in the water where he had drowned.
Mongal—her body blackened and charred—lay twisted in the wreckage from where she had burned to death.
The sight of the corpses made the viewers shift uncomfortably. They were criminals, yes—but seeing them like this, stripped of all the bravado they'd shown earlier, hit differently. For many, the thought settled in: They didn't deserve to die like that.
The next image was of Captain Boomerang. But instead of his full body, the camera showed only his severed arm, still clutching a boomerang mid-grip.
Spinner and Twice both went quiet, their usual energy fading. They each shed a tear—not for the morality of the man, but for the absurd, dark poetry of his end.
"I know it's messed up," Kirishima admitted with an uneasy laugh, "but… his arm like that? It kind of makes his death look a little cool. Even saying it out loud feels wrong."
"Nah," Bakugo said bluntly. "Even if it's screwed up, you're right. That pose is cool—intentional or not."
The next image hit harder. Savant's corpse lay sprawled in the sea, As the camera lingered, a bird landed beside him… the very same bird he had killed earlier that morning. It pecked at him without hesitation.
Tokoyami's voice dropped into a somber, almost philosophical tone.
"An eye for an eye."
Vantablack nodded beside him in agreement.
Then—another sharp cut.
The music shifted. The screen showed a pristine silver toilet with foam bubbling inside it, accompanied by the words: "Three Days Earlier."
(Hey guys If you'd like to support me, feel free to check out my Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/7night There aren't any special rewards for donating, but if I ever receive $50 in a single week, I'll post 2 chapters in one day in that week as a thank-you)
Everyone just stayed silent, reacting to the tension in the room after hearing Waller's words.
"At least they have a justifiable reason for the government to do this," Nizo said out loud, his voice breaking the quiet. "So this mission must be huge for her to take such drastic means."
Several people murmured in agreement, some shifting uncomfortably at the thought of what kind of threat would push the government this far.
"But if it's so important," All Might spoke up, "then why not call in the heroes?"
"Are you stupid—did you already forget what Present Mic said in his description?" someone replied sharply. "Waller hates heroes because they work outside of the law. So I doubt she would consider calling them."
"And to be honest with you," Endeavor added, his arms crossed and tone firm, "I don't like the heroes of this world—especially since most of them are vigilantes."
None of the heroes looked surprised. After all, it was public knowledge where Endeavor stood on vigilantes.
All For One only smiled faintly, knowing that there was more behind Endeavor's words than he was admitting.
Back on the screen, when Waller left, the fat agent looked at the two other agents in surprise. "Was she really gonna kill his daughter?"
The two female agents just shrugged.
"So they're also surprised toward the threat," one of the students observed quietly.
"At least that's something," another said. "Means not everyone around her is completely fine with it."
The scene cut to Waller and Bloodsport walking. "Each member of the team is chosen for his or her own completely unique set of abilities."
They arrived at an open cell. Standing inside was a man in prison clothes, ready and waiting.
"This is Christopher Smith, known as Peacemaker. In his hands, anything is a deadly weapon. His father was a soldier who trained his son how to kill from the moment he was born."
Bloodsport and several members of the audience looked confused.
"Wait, didn't she just say everyone in the team has a unique set of abilities?" Bakugo snapped. "Then why the hell does this guy have the same backstory and abilities as Bloodsport?"
A lot of the audience agreed with him, murmuring their confusion.
"Maybe he's in to fill the number of the team because no one else agreed to join," Phantom Thief suggested.
Surprisingly, everyone found it a good reason—but a few still found it suspicious.
Back on the screen, "Are you having a laugh?" Bloodsport asked, his expression somewhere between disbelief and irritation. "What? You said each member of the team is chosen for their unique abilities. He does exactly what I do—"
"But better," Peacemaker cut in with an unbothered smirk as he stepped out of his cell, following Waller without hesitation.
"I always hit my target, dead center," Bloodsport shot back, narrowing his eyes.
"I hit them more in the center," Peacemaker replied with absolute confidence, like it was a fact carved into stone.
Bloodsport froze for half a second, just long enough to ask the obvious question. "How could you hit something more in the center?"
"I use smaller bullets," Peacemaker said matter-of-factly. "What—goes through the bullet hole without touching the sides."
That earned a few chuckles from some of the students, while others just shook their heads at the absurdity.
"To be honest," one of the pros admitted, "if he actually could do that, then that would definitely be a testament to skill." Snipe leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. "Even if I tried to use my quirk, it'd be difficult to pull that off. So his quirk must be incredible… or he's just way too skilled in it." His colleagues nodded in agreement, a few quietly impressed despite themselves.
Back on the screen, Waller continued, leading the group down another hallway. "Next stop is King Shark."
She opened the door, and the camera revealed a giant humanoid shark sitting awkwardly on the floor, a small book gripped in his massive hands.
"Holy shit, what the fuck," Peacemaker muttered at the sight. Bloodsport didn't hide his own surprise.
In the audience, Gang Orca stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he instinctively leaned forward. Seeing someone with such a similar physical appearance—especially in this kind of group—put him on edge. He wasn't sure if he was more intrigued or concerned.
Back on the screen, Waller's voiceover explained, "Some people claim that Nanaue is a descendant of an ancient shark god. Whatever the case, he's strong… and deadly."
"Does it talk?" Bloodsport asked cautiously.
King Shark stood up and rumbled, "Book… read."
Bloodsport snorted. "The book's upside down."
"You see that?" Peacemaker said. "It's pretending to read a book."
"So smart. Me enjoy book so much," King Shark replied in an oddly cheerful tone, completely unbothered.
The cast exchanged puzzled glances. For someone in such a high-security facility, he seemed like… a simple, almost innocent man. A few even began to feel a twinge of sympathy for him, the earlier "shark god" comment fading from their minds. Only the detective with the principal, and All For One, kept their focus on that particular detail.
"Be a mite careful," Waller added coolly. "He has developed a taste for human meat."
That earned a sharp double-take from Bloodsport and Peacemaker, and more than a few unsettled looks from the audience.
"Wait—seriously? This is the second mutant user who's eaten human flesh," Spinner said, sounding both disgusted and vaguely disappointed.
"No," Kurogiri interjected evenly, "Weasel is an animal with humanoid features. King Shark may be the same situation—only a little smarter."
Several turned to look at seven,, expecting him to have some answer ready, but he just shrugged. "You'll find out eventually," he said, offering no further detail.
Everyone groaned at the non-answer, irritation growing. Seven turned to the readers. Hey, don't look at me. I don't know either. I've seen other versions of King Shark where he's much smarter than this one."
The scene on-screen shifted again.
They walked into another cell.
"Next, we have Cleo Cazo. Ratcatcher Two," Waller introduced.
"Wait, we couldn't afford Ratcatcher One?" Peacemaker quipped.
"He's dead," Waller replied flatly. "This is his daughter."
Several of the students winced. The idea of a generational villain—passing down not a legacy of heroism, but of crime—was unheard of in their world.
Hawks' eyes narrowed, a ripple of unease passing through him. If he had followed in his father's footsteps… would he have been the first generational fall? The thought made his stomach turn.
Waller knocked on the cell door, rousing Cleo from her sleep. "Will you be joining us?" she asked.
"I just woke up. I don't function well in the morning," Cleo replied groggily.
"My deepest apologies for disturbing you," Waller said with polite formality—before slamming her fist against the door. "Get your ass out here."
The sudden switch made Cleo jump to her feet in surprise. The cast shared confused looks. For a supposed villain, Cleo seemed… polite. Friendly, even.
Hawks blinked, wondering if his hearing had failed him.
As Cleo stepped forward, a rat climbed up onto her shoulder.
"No way," Bloodsport said immediately, backing away. "That's not coming with us."
"She controls rats," Waller explained.
Koda and Present Mic practically leapt out of their seats, both letting out involuntary shouts.
Aizawa groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Seriously?"
"Keep it down," he muttered to the two, but the damage was done—everyone had noticed their reaction.
Back on the screen, Bloodsport muttered, "I call that a disgusting superpower."
"This is Sebastian. Say hello, Sebastian," Ratcatcher said warmly.
The rat extended a tiny paw, clearly offering a handshake.
"I'm not shaking the rat's hand," Bloodsport said, brushing past. Sebastian's ears drooped as he withdrew his paw, a sad squeak escaping him.
Several of the girls in the audience let out soft "awws" at the sight.
"Why doesn't he want to?" Mina asked.
"Maybe it's because he's a rat," Momo answered, earning an immediate groan from Mina.
The footage cut again, this time to a new prisoner.
"And finally, we have Abner Krill," Waller announced.
"What's that on his neck?" Bloodsport asked.
"That's a power dampener. They call him… the Polka-Dot Man."
There was a brief pause from the audience, then Spinner frowned. "Wait. Why is he the only one with a power dampener? None of the other members had one."
Melissa frowned, her mind already working through the possibilities. "What's going on?"
Back on the screen, Peacemaker scoffed. "Polka-Dot Man. What's he do? Throw polka dots at people?"
He glanced at Waller. "He does, doesn't he? He throws polka dots at people."
From another cell, a voice rang out: "I hope you can entertain my kid's birthday party, you fucking pussy!" followed by mocking laughter.
In the audience, those with powers that could be called "silly" grimaced, while a few—mainly Bakugo—smirked in agreement.
"What the hell are they adding someone with such a useless power for?" Bakugo said.
"We talked about this," Best Jeanist reminded him patiently. "You shouldn't underestimate your opponents. And I doubt she'd add someone with a weak power after she emphasized how important this mission is earlier."
Bakugo went quiet, replaying the point in his mind before grudgingly nodding.
(Hey guys If you'd like to support me, feel free to check out my Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/7night There aren't any special rewards for donating, but if I ever receive $50 in a single week, I'll post 2 chapters in one day in that week as a thank-you)
The scene then cut to the sterile, theatre like room where the squad, now dressed in their costumes, sat as Waller began the debriefing of their mission.
"Corto Maltese is a small island nation off the coast of South America," Waller began, her tone clipped and authoritative.
Some of the sharper members of the audience immediately looked puzzled. Principal Nezu tilted his head, whiskers twitching, before politely raising a paw.
"Yes, Nezu, what is it?" Seven asked, turning his attention to the principal.
"Excuse me, but I have never heard of this country before. And I assure you I am not mistaken—there is no such nation in that region of the world." His words carried weight, and the room fell quiet.
Now everyone was staring back at the screen with greater focus. If Corto Maltese didn't exist, what were they watching unfold?
Seven finally explained. "It's actually very simple. Many locations in this world mirror yours, but they're not always the same. America exists here, for example—but with cities that don't exist in your world. To put it into context you'd understand: think of I-Island. Most of you have visited there. It exists in your world, but here? It doesn't."
His explanation made the cast nod slowly, understanding at least part of the difference. A few still didn't quite grasp it—especially Denki, who muttered something about "parallel geography" under his breath, earning a sigh from Jirō.
Back on the screen, Waller continued her briefing.
"Over the past 100 years, Corto Maltese has been ruled with an iron fist by the Herrera family. But a week ago, this man—General Silvio Luna—along with his right-hand, Mayor General Mateo Suárez, seized control in a violent military coup."
The heroes and students initially reacted with optimism.
"So… the people finally broke free from tyranny," one of them whispered, a hopeful note in their voice.
"They even have a military leader guiding them. Perhaps he's a kind of hero for them?" Midnight wondered aloud, though with uncertainty.
But the villains only smirked knowingly. Spinner scoffed under his breath, "As if someone clawing for power would suddenly be noble."
The screen cut to images of the Herrera family hanging lifelessly from ropes in the center of the city square. Students gasped in horror, some even covering their mouths. The brutality of it was undeniable.
"This… this is barbaric!" Iida exclaimed, hands chopping furiously in the air. "Even tyrants deserve a fair trial under the law!"
The villains chuckled darkly at his outrage.
"You morons," Dabi sneered, his voice sharp. "Did you actually expect a man like that to seize control for the sake of the people? He didn't risk everything to 'liberate' them. He wanted the throne."
"Exactly," Spinner added coldly. "He's just another opportunist with guns and followers. Nothing more."
Their words stung. Some of the heroes looked ready to protest, but Endeavor and Aizawa both stayed silent—grim expressions betraying their reluctant agreement. It wasn't something they liked to admit, but the villains had called it before they did.
Seven turned around to the Readers, "Okay, I will be changing the way I write the scenes. What do I mean by that? Well, I normally write what's happening and mostly the lines that is happening in the scene, but that is taking way too much room in the chapter itself and it makes it longer, and I have to make more parts to one project. But from now on I will describe what's happening. I will describe what they're doing and what they are talking about. I will only write down the lines that are important and fight scenes. This way the pacing would be improved and the chapter would have way more room for reactions."
Seven turned back to the cast.
Back on the screen, Waller explained that the United States government didn't approved of any of this. After the coup after the exorcism of the Herrera regime. the new leadership was clearly anti-America.
Peacemaker casually asked if they wanted them to kill Luna.
"Oh, so this is an assassination mission. I could definitely be good in that mission and complete it in no time," Toga said with a wide grin. She really didn't care about the mission itself, but her attention lingered on one thing — they still hadn't shown what happened to Harley, and she was desperate to see her again, maybe even rescue her.
Some of the audience shifted uncomfortably. They didn't think that was the real mission.
"It's just a small country," Kaminari muttered, scratching his head. "Why would it really matter if it's anti-American or not? Plenty of countries have bad relations with the US."
Several students nodded in agreement. It didn't add up.
The film wasted no time proving them right. Waller immediately redirected the briefing, telling the team about Jotunheim — an experimental facility housing something called Project Starfish.
Their intel suggested that Project Starfish was from space.
Gasps rippled through the room.
"Did they say it was from space?!" Melissa shouted, already leaning forward in her seat, her brain racing with possibilities. "What if it's an unknown element? The scientific applications could be limitless!"
Seven briefly turned to the Readers: "By the way, I removed the pink dreadlock girl. Honestly, I don't find her funny at all, just annoying. So she's out."
He turned back to the cast as speculation erupted.
All For One tapped his fingers on the armrest, his voice low but thoughtful. "If the people of this country found something extraterrestrial, they could weaponize it. And if they're hiding it in a facility like this… it must be a power worth killing for."
The students whispered nervously, while some of the villains looked intrigued.
"It could be a mineral… something with unusual energy," Nezu mused, stroking his chin.
"It's in the name," Momo cut in. "Project Starfish. That could be a codename. Either referring to its composition… or its function. And neither option makes me comfortable."
Before the theories could spiral further, Mina suddenly jumped up.
"What are you guys talking about?!" she shouted. "They probably caught an alien instead of an element. Think about it — this place sounds like the perfect location to hold aliens!"
The entire room went silent, everyone staring at her.
Phantom Thief leaned back in his chair and burst out laughing. "Do you seriously believe in fairy tales? Aliens? Please. It's obviously just some material from space."
"Isn't that right, Seven?" he added smugly.
Seven thought about it for a moment. He could tell them now that aliens exist… but he decided against it. Better to wait until they saw Starro themselves — their genuine reaction would be far more entertaining.
"Something like that," Seven replied vaguely.
Everyone groaned, glaring at Mina, who puffed her cheeks in annoyance and sat down, pouting.
Back on the screen, Waller's tone hardened as she explained the scale of the threat. The object was dangerous, unstable, and had to be completely destroyed. Every trace of it wiped away. Left unchecked, it could threaten not just America but the rest of the world.
"Holy shit," Snipe muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "Villains are gonna save the world. Never thought I'd see the day."
Some of his colleagues quietly nodded, sharing his unease. The thought unsettled most of the adults—villains being trusted with a mission like this wasn't just unusual, it felt wrong. The students and even some of the villains themselves sat stunned, unable to respond right away.
On the screen, Bloodsport's voice cut through. He asked bluntly how they were supposed to get inside. Waller answered by showing an image of a man with mechanical implants protruding from his head—The Thinker.
"Is that… a mutant?" one of the students whispered.
"No, it looks like tech," another corrected, leaning forward. "Some kind of support equipment implanted in his body."
Waller continued without hesitation, explaining where The Thinker spent his nights—at a gentleman's club—and ordered the squad to make him help them in any way necessary.
"Any questions?" she asked coldly.
The squad on screen immediately began tossing out comments—jokes, complaints, and nonsense that had nothing to do with the mission.
Watching them, Endeavor's brow twitched, his irritation plain. A vein popped on his forehead as his patience thinned. "Are they even paying attention at all?" he growled.
Kirishima leaned toward Bakugo, whispering just loud enough to be heard. "Do you think Peacemaker is right? Maybe Project Starfish does have something to do with butts?"
That earned him a sharp look from a few classmates, but Bakugo let out a short, rough laugh. "Well, maybe it's an alien that climbs in people's asses to take over. Wouldn't surprise me."
"Bakugo!" Mina shot back, glaring at him, though his mocking grin made it obvious he was only teasing her. She crossed her arms with a huff, irritation written all over her face.
But then her attention shifted as King Shark appeared on the screen, staring with his wide eyes and awkward demeanor. Mina's glare instantly softened. "Okay… I don't know why, but he's actually kind of adorable," she admitted, her voice dropping.
To her surprise, a handful of the other girls agreed with her. Some tilted their heads, unsure why they were drawn to the strange creature, but still found themselves smiling.
"He's not supposed to be cute," one boy muttered in confusion, "and yet…"
While chatter broke out around the room, Midoriya's pen scratched furiously across his notebook. Now that he finally knew the target, his excitement was clear. An alien object. His first chance to see something that came from space. His thoughts raced as he jotted down every detail, barely able to contain the anticipation.