Chapter 9: The Devil's Bargain
The psychological weight of the Swarm was not a metaphor. It was a physical, exhausting reality.
As Rei Arata walked down the rain-slicked pavement of the Kamino Ward, he felt as though he was moving underwater. The three distinct powers tethered to his soul were constantly humming, fighting for space within his mortal frame. Akio's Aegis Pulse made his blood run unnaturally hot. Rin's Sanctuary Phasing left him with a lingering, nauseating sense of vertigo, as if reality were just a thin sheet of glass he might accidentally fall through. And Kenji's Knight's Vow... that was the heaviest of all. It was a phantom density in his bones, a constant, crushing pressure demanding to be unleashed in the defense of others.
Rei pulled the collar of his drab gray coat up against the chill. He couldn't unleash it. Not tonight. Tonight, he wasn't the Winged Sovereign, and he wasn't a protector.
Tonight, he was throwing a match into a powder keg.
He turned down a narrow, trash-strewn alleyway that smelled strongly of ozone and stale beer. At the dead end, a heavy iron door stood slightly ajar. Standing beside it, flicking a cigarette into a puddle, was Giran.
The underworld broker smirked as Rei approached, exhaling a cloud of gray smoke. "I gotta admit, kid. When you called me on the secure line and said you wanted a sit-down with the big leagues, I thought you were finally cracking from the screen glare. You're a data scraper. These guys... they're apex predators."
"Predators need a hunting ground," Rei replied, his voice flat, completely burying the swirling anxieties of his avatars deep within his mind. "I have the map. Just get me in the room, Giran. I'll handle the rest."
Giran chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Your funeral, Arata. Just remember our deal. Twenty percent of whatever finder's fee they toss your way. Assuming you walk out with your hands attached to your arms."
Giran pushed the heavy iron door open. Rei stepped inside.
The interior of the bar was dim, illuminated only by the sickly yellow glow of a few hanging bulbs and the ambient light of a muted television screen. The air was thick with the smell of old blood and cheap liquor.
Behind the wooden bar, a man made entirely of swirling, dark purple mist was methodically polishing a highball glass. Kurogiri. The League's warp gate.
But it was the figure slouched in the booth in the center of the room that made the hairs on the back of Rei's neck stand up.
Tomura Shigaraki was scratching his neck. The sound of his dry, cracked skin peeling under his fingernails echoed loudly in the quiet bar. He wore a simple black hoodie, his pale blue hair falling wildly over his face. Disembodied hands clasped his arms, his shoulders, and his face, giving him the appearance of a corpse being dragged into the underworld.
"Giran," Shigaraki rasped, not looking up from his furious scratching. "You said you had a cheat code. All I see is an NPC. If this is a waste of my time, I'm going to dust you both."
"Now, now, Shigaraki," Giran said smoothly, holding up his hands and stepping to the side. "Don't shoot the messenger. The kid here stumbled onto a goldmine. I verified the encryption myself. It's the real deal."
Rei stepped forward, keeping his hands out of his pockets, perfectly visible. Through his Emotion Sight, he allowed himself a fraction of a glance at Shigaraki's aura.
It was horrifying. A violently churning, jagged storm of pitch-black hatred, crimson rage, and a sickly, pale gray emptiness. There was no desire to protect, no desire to escape. There was only the desire to destroy.
"I am a broker of information," Rei said, forcing his voice to remain perfectly steady. "Two nights ago, the Hero Public Safety Commission suffered a catastrophic breach at their Nabu District server farm. The media hasn't reported it because the Commission has a gag order on the police."
Shigaraki stopped scratching. One single, bloodshot eye peered out through the fingers of the hand covering his face. "I heard a rumor about that. The heroes were running around like headless chickens. Eraserhead and that glorified pigeon, Hawks. What did they lose?"
Rei reached into his coat. Instantly, Kurogiri stopped polishing the glass, the purple mist around him flaring defensively. Rei moved slowly, pulling out a standard, unencrypted flash drive, and tossed it onto the table in front of Shigaraki.
"They lost their Black Site Registry," Rei stated coldly. "The Commission has been systematically suppressing individuals with powerful, 'villainous' Quirks. They deny them education, force them into poverty, and keep them contained so they never pose a threat to the status quo."
Shigaraki stared at the drive. "And?"
"And," Rei continued, stepping closer, "that drive contains the names, addresses, and Quirk registries of over four hundred suppressed individuals. Teenagers and young adults who hate society just as much as you do. An entire army of disenfranchised, high-potential recruits, just waiting for someone to give them a reason to burn it all down."
A heavy silence fell over the bar. Shigaraki slowly reached out, his pinky finger raised high to prevent his Decay Quirk from activating, and picked up the drive.
"You're giving me the Commission's dirty laundry," Shigaraki murmured, a twisted, jagged smile spreading beneath his hand mask. "You want me to recruit them."
"I want you to cause chaos," Rei corrected bluntly. "The Commission is hunting the people who stole this data. They are distracted. If the League of Villains were to suddenly strike a dozen Commission transport convoys, or break into their containment facilities to liberate these kids... the Commission would be completely humiliated. Hero Society's perfect facade would crack. And you would double your ranks overnight."
Shigaraki tilted his head, his red eye locking onto Rei. "You're a data scraper, Arata. You don't care about my ranks. You don't care about the facade. You're selling me a war. Why?"
Rei held his ground. He could feel Kenji's Knight's Vow pulsing in his marrow, begging him to strike this monster down. He could feel Akio's Aegis Pulse demanding he throw up a shield. He suppressed them both.
"Because the Commission is bad for business," Rei lied, a flawless, sociopathic edge to his voice. "They regulate the underworld. They squeeze brokers like me. I want them bleeding. You want them dead. Our goals align."
Suddenly, Shigaraki lunged across the table.
He was incredibly fast. His hand shot out, all five fingers spread wide, aiming directly for Rei's throat.
Decay. If all five fingers touched him, Rei would turn to ash in seconds.
Rei didn't flinch. He didn't step back. He didn't summon Rin's portals or Akio's shield. He stood absolutely perfectly still, staring dead into Shigaraki's eye.
Shigaraki's fingers stopped less than a millimeter from the skin of Rei's neck. The villain was breathing heavily, his eye wide, searching Rei's face for a trace of fear.
There was none. Thanks to the absolute, unyielding emotional anchor of Kenji's willpower echoing in his mind, Rei's heart rate hadn't even spiked.
"You don't flinch," Shigaraki whispered, a note of genuine curiosity in his raspy voice.
"I don't play games I haven't already won," Rei replied quietly, the shadow of the Winged Sovereign bleeding through his civilian disguise for just a fraction of a second. "Take the drive, Shigaraki. Start your war. But if you touch me, the decryption key for the rest of those files dies with me."
Shigaraki slowly pulled his hand back, a dark, manic chuckle vibrating in his chest. "Kurogiri. Get the NPC a drink. He just leveled up."
"That won't be necessary," Rei said, turning on his heel. "The coordinates for their largest containment facility are in the root folder. Have fun, Tomura."
Rei walked out of the bar, the heavy iron door clanging shut behind him.
The moment he was alone in the rainy alleyway, his knees buckled. He slammed his hand against the brick wall, gasping for air as the adrenaline finally crashed through Kenji's emotional block. His heart hammered violently against his ribs.
He had done it. He had aimed the League of Villains squarely at the Hero Commission. The board was about to descend into absolute, bloody chaos. Hawks, Aizawa, and the Commission's monstrous "Icarus" were about to have their hands full with an army of radicalized outcasts.
It bought Nocturne the time he needed.
Rei stood up, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. The Swarm had survived the night. Now, it was time to find his fourth champion, rules be damned. He needed to break his own limits.
The Sovereign was going to war.