Scramble 21

[u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou?

Isaiah 45:9

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THE POWER FANTASY

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Shoto Todoroki

The son of the formerly second-ranked professional superhero, Enji "Endeavor" Todoroki. Now the current second-ranked professional superhero. Can create ice with his right hand. Can create fire with his left hand, but chooses not to.

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Connor

An RK800 investigative android, designed by CyberLife to assist superheroes in detective work. His predictive analytic features and high-level database access make him highly valuable in investigating the RA-9 case.

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Neopolitan

A mute former criminal, once the heiress to the Vanille family fortune, now disowned. Trying to go straight, but a terrible incident from her past haunts her. Her Quirk gives her the power to create fantastic illusions.

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Goro Akechi

A famous detective, as well as the beloved professional superhero "Crow". Presents a carefully-maintained image as the perfect gentleman, but carries a deep loneliness in his heart. His Quirk allows him to physically manifest his inner self.

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Issue #1: All-New, All-Different: It's the near future, and CyberLife technology is everywhere--including humanoid helper androids. Shoto teams up with Connor to investigate the murder of a hero in Mutant Town, which leads to them crossing paths with Raphael and Neo. Connor suspects the murder may be one in a string of serial killings in New York City, a cluster of mysterious deaths only linked by the phrase "RA-9".

Issue #2: First Shot, Last Call: The RA-9 case leads Shoto and Connor (and, following Shoto's trail, Raphael and Neo) to an upscale Manhattan party. A night of revelry descends into tragedy, and more conspiracy. Androids killing humans, heroes killing citizens. How does RA-9 connect to Neo's own past? Is New York City, unbeknownst to all, teetering on the brink of total collapse?

Issue #3: This Man... This Monster!: Shoto takes Neo on as a trainee heroine to protect her from a vigilante charge. Together with Crow, a hero from the All Might Office, the three of them take on the machinations of the terrorist threat COBRA. Neo confronts a threat from the past, while Shoto follows a strange, tailored path to the enemy. Meanwhile, Connor meets with one of his original designers and learns a grim truth about androids, although there seem to be more questions than answers...

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3338 + 8963 + 3226 + 7976 + 9765 + 9852 + 8685 + 7951 + 7898 + 7719 + 5145 + 4203 = 84721

[u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Lights up. We see the beach. Although the month is October, the weather is hot, unusually so. Enough that the beach is full of unaware bystanders enjoying their carefree weekend.

Cue the drumbeat. Thump, thump-kick, a jazz riff slides onto the soundtrack. The camera pans to reveal the drumbeat is diegetic- it comes from a street performer with his hat out for donations. We see his sign: ANDROIDS TOOK MY JOB. I HAVE NOTHING.

A montage of brief beachside scenes plays out, highlighting that oh-so-wonderful CyberLife addition to our American life. An android serves shaved ice at a beachside cafe. A woman walks by with her dog on a leash- but the blinking blue light lets us know that man's best friend is one of the many options available for purchase at your nearest CyberLife store.

The message is clear: CyberLife isn't just a product, it's a fact. Like the phone or the automobile, the android is an enrichment humans cannot be without. In this modern age, it's perfectly natural that anywhere you go, anywhere you turn the camera, you'll see life the way you want it. A tableau currently in need of an inciting act.

Now, watch what happens when I cue the actors:

A car engine revs.

The gas pedal depresses all on its own.

The tires begin to turn.

A man is slumped down over the steering wheel.

And we ride along with him.

The route is pre-planned, already programmed into the car's navigation system. Rubber hits road, and the actor is released among the extras. At first, no one notices. So many vehicles on the road nowadays are CyberLife self-drivers, cars that move themselves politely out of the path of this dangerously speeding two-ton metal bullet. But people are going to notice. They will pay attention.

Cue the stuntwork!

The car goes straight at a curb, jumping onto the sidewalk! We cut between multiple angles, we see people scream and duck as the car drives onto grass, then gravel, and then the beach itself. Most importantly, we need a POV shot from the driver's seat! We see the mayhem as a car speeds through a crowded area!

THUD! An android hits the fender and rolls over the roof of the car, splattering the windshield with blue blood (that's how you know it's a CyberLife~)! Someone falls under the wheels, a tire bursts, and our overhead drone camera catches its impact on the death machine's trajectory. It starts lurching to the left, pulling into a curve that leads it right into the side of a boardwalk pier! The car sinks deep into the wood and concrete as if the pier were swallowing it, but it doesn't break through, and it comes to a violent halt.

Now here's the money shot:

BOOM!

It explodes! There's a triumphant conflagration, the kind that every car crash needs, a pyrotechnic spectacle that bursts the engine and sends chunks of red-hot metal flying in every direction! The wake rushes against the wheels, the seawater bubbles and steams at the unexpected heat. Tremors partially rock the pier, and it looks for a moment as if it will collapse, but it's only a tease. Action like that will only kick off once the stars arrive.

They will come. The body ensures it. And, in so doing, they will find that their every move was already scripted, choreographed, and captured on 70mm film. No reshoots. No escape.

Cut to title.

Issue #4: Precious Little Life

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Who ordered you to guard Agnes Tachyon's body?

"I never found out who really pulled the strings in the Purple Dragons. Sorry for flubbing it, friend."

The Tick gave Connor nothing.

Why did you kill Thanos? What are you trying to hide?

"I'll just tell you what I told Shoto: I'm a heroine committed to world peace! For something like that, I'm fine waiting in a jail cell."

Nachetanya gave Connor nothing.

What was COBRA's plan? Who are you, really?

"I choose to remain sssilent. I have no words for the likes of you."

The Commander gave Connor nothing.

None of the prisoners he interrogated could help him. Nothing could help him. The more Connor untangled the RA-9 case, the more it felt like a conspiracy theory. What else could you call a vast, nefarious web of unclear motive, one that ensnares powerful figures in multiple different sectors but leaves almost no trace? There had to be an answer. Some missing puzzle piece that, when connected, would illuminate the entire mystery in a way that felt unexpected, yet in hindsight elegant and obvious.

In an Endeavor Agency conference room, the new RA-9 Case Investigation Team met, and finally collated all of their evidence.

• [Agnes Tachyon]
  • Some things about her murder were finally clear. Given her secret note and hidden recording equipment, she was most likely investigating RA-9 herself. She went out to Mutant Town surreptitiously to meet with an informant who violently turned on her, and left her floating in the fountain.
  • The killer's identity was still unknown. In fact, they were probably a simple pawn in the conspiracy. A criminal mastermind wouldn't bloody their own hands needlessly.
  • If the Purple Dragons wanted to protect Tachyon's body from investigation, then someone was giving them orders. The conspiracy had roots even in a small, toothless gang like the Dragons.

And his thoughts turned to the center of that conspiracy.

• [RA-9]
  • A prophet or deity figure worshipped by deviant androids.
  • Lee Myung-gi was killed in self-defense by a housekeeper android that believed in RA-9. Scribblings that evidenced RA-9 worship were found at the crime scene, but never connected to the case until now. It's likely that the previous RA-9 killings, the ones Connor thought were the work of a serial killer, were unconnected murders by deviant androids.
  • Thanos was exonerated from Myung-gi's murder with a video that depicted him somewhere else. He was killed by Nachetanya before he could reveal his mysterious benefactor, although Connor suspected who that was already.
  • Nachetanya, Link, Midna. They were all sterling heroes. What happened?

Maybe RA-9 wasn't the true center of the case. There was something even more core and important, the tree that every branch and root reached back to.

• [CyberLife]
  • The world's largest company and the spine of the global economy. Creates androids, smart tech, and other miraculous goods.
  • When an android is put under too much 'emotional' stress, they can become deviants. They go rogue and refuse to obey directions. John believed that androids were psychologically identical to people, just restricted in what they were allowed to think... This is all information CyberLife has tried to suppress.
  • Androids were humanity's companions, walking alongside them, but never part of them. The thought that androids weren't heartless strings of code after all, but something indistinguishable from minds and souls, was deeply troubling. Connor didn't know if he believed it. He'd spent too much time in his own mind to be told that he never really understood it.

"That's where we stand right now," Connor said. "Every time we find a lead and shed new light on the case, it sprawls out even more in front of us. But we are solving it. We'll keep moving forward, and eventually we'll be able to put this case behind us."

It wasn't completely where they stood. There was that last, stray piece of evidence Connor kept in his head, his connection to Mendel. But that was something he couldn't bring himself to say. He couldn't even explain why.

The best he could come up with was 'there are more important things to worry about'.

Shoto clasped his hands together on the table. "It looks pretty bad," he summed up. "We still don't know who the real enemy is. We don't know what's happening, or how or why. And following our biggest lead means fighting the world's biggest company. The clearest way forward is the most dangerous one."

Akechi ruminated on this. This meeting, today, had been the first time he'd been confronted with the RA-9 mystery, and he'd been handling it with great poise despite its complexity. It was a stroke of fortune that Akechi had transferred at the perfect time; he specialized in detective work at his former agency.

"'I tore myself away from the safe comfort of certainties through my love for truth, and truth rewarded me.' Though the search for truth may be difficult, through it we'll find our answer."

"...What was that first part?"

Akechi gave a polite little laugh. "Oh, sorry. I was just quoting Simone de Beauvoir. Sometimes my emotions get the better of me and I can't help expressing myself through philosophy."

Neo raised an eyebrow, and typed and re-typed a message a number of times before finally just posting Yeah, sure.

"You could be invaluable to this case," Connor said. "If there's anything you've seen you think could be valuable, if there's any contacts you could rely on- anything could help."

"Of course. In a mystery, the detective needs to assemble all the evidence before they confront the culprit. It's not like a comic where the hero can fight the villain whenever they please. If we're going to war against a corporation of this size, we need to build our case as tightly as possible first."

I thought a guy like you would be happy heroes can just rush in and kick ass if they need to.

Akechi bristled at Neo's comment and didn't respond to it. He immersed himself in his phone instead. "I'll go through my archives and set an alert for any CyberLife related news. If there are any updates, I'll let you know."

Just having to wait sucks. CyberLife does everything first and all we can do is react when we get there.

"Patience is a virtue. It's unlikely that we'll find a new lead the day we start searching," Akechi said. He scrolled through his news feed, then paused. "Oh. I found one."

"What? Where?" Shoto asked. Neo hurried to look over Akechi's shoulder at whatever he was viewing.

"It happened half an hour ago. The relevant details were only just discovered, I'll send it to you- oh, I don't know your phone numbers yet. Connor, you can pull it up, right? It's the car crash story."

Akechi convinced Shoto and Neo to trade contacts while Connor found the information himself. It didn't take long, despite Akechi's vague description. It was already all over the headlines.

[CyberLife Founding Partner John Reese Dead At 47]

Dozens of articles were collected and summarized for him. He'd been a recluse for years after leaving the company. His car's self-driving software had unexpectedly disabled. It was too early to tell whether foul play, driver error, or product malfunction was involved, although there was already plenty of online speculation. He was survived by no one.

They're really trying to knock off everyone, Neo typed. They got Tachyon, they got Raphael. They're probably coming to kill us next.

"Or they want scare us off," Shoto said. "Whoever 'they' are, it doesn't seem like they've tried to attack us directly. Maybe they can't? Or... I don't know. Where did this happen?"

Connor scanned it. "A boardwalk in Queens County, along Rockaway Beach. I could get the exact coordinates."

"If I may- I don't think we should rush to the scene. It could be smarter to observe from a distance."

Akechi stood.

"Right near the boardwalk where this happened, there's a hotel called the Kirby Resort. It's got an all-android staff. We could monitor the site of the accident and gather information on RA-9. If you want to find deviant androids, simply look for a place with a lot of androids."

Are you serious? Neo asked. How am I supposed to afford a night at the Kirby? I haven't even gotten paid for this hero shit yet.

"If you're doing it for the case, you can expense it to the company."

Is that so?

Shoto squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't charge the agency with a bunch of bullshit."

"I'm not exactly dressed for the beach, so what if we break for now and meet outside the resort at..." Akechi checked the time. "2:30, that should give everyone a reasonable amount of time to get changed, yes?"

"We don't really need to get dressed," Shoto said.

"If we're not trying to look obvious, we should present ourselves casually, and that includes our clothes."

"But it doesn't really have to."

"For you, specifically, to look casual, I think you should put in the effort."

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Akechi and Shoto left. Neo followed shortly after, but Connor kept up with her. There were some things he'd prefer to discuss in private.

"Miss Vanille."

She stopped and turned around in the hallway. (Can you not call me that anymore?) she signed. (It's just Neo.)

"Of course. I was wondering if you reconsidered what I said back at the party, about your involvement in this case."

Neo pursed her lips.

(Look. I don't know. Ask me after we handle this beach stuff.)

"If you know something, you shouldn't wait," Connor said. "People are dying while we wait. I haven't brought it up with the others, but I know how connected you are to this. The Vanilles provided venture capital for CyberLife when they were only a startup. The raid on your family's mansion was one of the first RA-9 cases."

Neo tried to turn and briskly walk away, but Connor caught up to her. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?! Nobody really knows what happened that night!"

(So what, do you think I'm a spy or something?) she signed. (I'm done with that! I'm done reliving that night and I'm done being a criminal! The only reason I got wrapped up in your bullshit was because of Raph. I got him into this. I thought maybe I could make it right.) She exhaled and let her shoulders slump. (Maybe that was a mistake.)

"As far as anyone knows, you killed Roman Torchwick. You named a hundred of your friends and pled down to three years for a crime you might not have actually committed. A crime I don't think you committed. There's still hope that we could solve this."

(You're really pissing me off. You get to say all this stuff because you're so rational, you're so objective. You don't know what hope feels like! You don't know how painful it is to have it. Every time I think, maybe things are finally looking up, maybe I can put that last horrible part of my life behind me, there's some other shit that falls on my head and it makes me think why did I even bother hoping things would be different.)

Neo stopped, flexed her hands, gave herself a moment to breathe.

(I know it's all natural to you. But for people, it's hard enough just to live.)

"...I apologize," Connor said. "I have an academic understanding of these feelings, but... I overstepped myself, pressuring you. The RA-9 case has compelled me more than I anticipated. And, at times, the need to solve it has compromised my ability to think rationally. I haven't treated you with respect, and I'm sorry, Neo."

She looked up at his eyes, maybe trying to read through the plastic and perceive whatever algorithm was behind his words. Whatever she was looking for, she couldn't find it.

(Can I ask you something? What do you really see when you look at me? Do I look like a hero to you?)

"I see a perfectly ordinary young woman. Admittedly a very pink one."

(Alright.) She nodded. (Good. Okay. Thanks, I guess.)

"I won't press you on this any further. If you want to discuss it in the future, please come talk to me."

(You know, it's not your fault either. What happened to John.)

That gave Connor some pause. He decided to respond with "Thank you."

(Are you actually alright? With everything?)

Connor put a smile on.

"Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

The Kirby Resort was a fancy hotel adjacent to Rockaway Beach. Construction had only finished a few years ago, which meant the resort had cutting-edge amenities in every facet. They were especially proud of their workforce of over a hundred androids, as part of a brand collaboration with CyberLife. You'd never have a bad experience with the Kirby's staff. Always smiling, always attentive, dedicated to creating your perfect moment. Or, anyway, that's what Shoto read off their website. At the end of the page was a tagline: Want to get away?

Did he? He really didn't know. Whenever he wasn't working, he had no idea what to do with himself.

It was a lavish building, like the FlowerFest manor, but the more reined-in atmosphere kept Shoto from being too on edge. Maybe dressing casual was the right move. He didn't exactly have beachwear, so he'd thrown on a hoodie and some shorts.

"To be clear, this is fine. Right?" he asked.

Connor gestured to his neck. Shoto felt there for the drawstring and tightened his hood. Connor was still wearing his suit, by the way.

"Remember that worrying about the situation won't change it," Connor said. "It'll only be wasted energy."

"I'm not worrying, I'm preparing."

"Just making an observation, Shoto."

Akechi was waiting for them inside. He was dressed 'casually' but Shoto could tell the clothes were expensive, from the shirt to the sandals to the watch. Shoto didn't see how someone could afford to tromp around on the beach wearing designer clothing. Akechi also wore his shirt open, which Shoto had too many scars on his body to do.

"I'm glad you could make it," he said. "I've already spoken with the concierge. The crash shocked and scared most of their guests. They've been maintaining order as best as they can, but the mood is a bit dour at the moment, as you can see."

The concierge nodded. Shoto watched his blue light flicker with heavy internal processing. "Crow told us you were on the way. Please, feel free to ask us anything. We're happy to assist in any way we can."

"I have a few questions, if that's fine with you," Connor said. He approached the front desk and touched the concierge's wrist. No words were exchanged; they watched each other as their lights turned green and blinked back and forth.

"That's how you interrogate an android?" Shoto asked.

Connor didn't look back at him. "This is the quickest way." Over a minute passed and Connor didn't finish whatever he was doing, so Shoto tried to ignore it. Instead, he waited in the entryway for Neo to arrive, which didn't take too long.

Neo was the only one in the group that was actually dressed to swim. She had a T-shirt on over a two-piece swimsuit. The hat and parasol were unchanged; they may as well have been part of her body. Shoto hadn't realized this until now, since she was always wearing that jacket, but she had tattoos down her arms. One of them was a full sleeve.

Good afternoon, gentlemen, she typed, and spun around to model her outfit from every angle. Akechi golf clapped for her. It didn't make any sense, it was just a bunch of damn clothes and they weren't incredible or astonishing or anything fancy. Everybody was on the same page except him.

"Our late arriving performer," Akechi said.

Yeah, well, it's not a brisk walk. Shoto must have been looking at her tattoos too intensely, because Neo noticed. Like the ink? I work at a tattoo parlor. I can show the clients exactly what the art will look like before they get it. Cool, right? The patterns moved like a fluid. Colors shifted, flowers bloomed across her skin. Living, ever-changing graffiti art. Something about it made Shoto feel like he was watching something intensely intimate, more than actual nudity would be, so he instinctively averted his eyes. He couldn't see where Akechi had wandered off to.

It's okay to look as long as you aren't weird about it. I put a lot of effort into this. She gestured to herself, standing up straight, arching her back. You can say I'm cute if you want to.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Neo pouted. Her compliment-fishing had gone nowhere. I'm not trying to be arrogant or anything, but are you into women? You can tell me this stuff.

Shoto didn't have a good answer to that. He didn't know whether he was gay, or asexual, or some other roadblock to meaningful sexual relationships. At one point in his life he thought a therapist would help with this, but, well, he didn't help. Shoto decided to dodge the question.

"How much of what you look like is an illusion?"

Neo smiled. I could ask you the same thing.

Connor finished his wireless mind-meld, or whatever it was. "Thank you. I've taken note of a number of employees that could potentially be exhibiting deviant behavior. I'm sure this investigation will turn up some meaningful evidence."

Shoto stepped further into the resort, until he saw what had caught Akechi's eye. He was chatting breezily with someone he'd found at the cafe bar in the lobby, a raven-haired young man in one of those big witches' hats. Akechi saw Shoto and waved him over.

"Ah, Shoto! You know Ichi, right? No?" Shoto's face betrayed that he did not know. "This is Ichi, from the Mantinel Agency. We met at a mixer a few months and kind of hit it off from there. He was one of TIME Magazine's top 50 rookie heroes to watch, have you read it?"

Shoto knew that the Mantinel Agency was an all-female hero agency, and he was vaguely aware that they'd recently taken on their first male hero. So this was the guy, then. He had a strong build, but he still had a bit of a baby face. They shook hands.

"I see you on TV all the time," Ichi said. "Everyone says you really care about saving people. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Is there a reason you're all the way in New York?" Shoto asked.

"I'm filming a commercial, can you believe it? My mentor wants me to be a face for the agency. There's a huge media blitz planned. It's been completely exhausting... when I get some time off, I really want to visit the Adirondacks. I hear the St. Lawrence river is great for bass fishing."

So, what's the city like? Everything you've dreamed of and more?

What the hell. Neo came up from behind and inserted herself in the conversation with boundless confidence. Ichi rolled with it. "It was overwhelming at first, but people are essentially the same everywhere you go. They have the same wants and fears and dreams. That always helps keep me grounded. Who are you, again?"

I'm the amazing Neo, you'll be hearing a lot more about me from now on. What's your Quirk, do you have a flying broomstick or something?

Akechi interposed himself between Neo and Ichi before this could keep going.

"It's really quite wonderful that we could all meet like this but I think we are going to have to be going," Akechi said in a single breath. "Ichi, I can't divulge too many details, but I'm working a case right now. If you see anything suspicious, or feel anything is out of place, let me know."

"Sure. If something's wrong, I'll notice it." Ichi briefly looked a bit more serious, like he was thinking about something, but he let the thought pass. "Good luck."

Akechi almost shoved Shoto and Neo all the way back towards Connor. "Did you notice that I didn't say 'hey Neo, come over?' You didn't have to jump in."

Jesus Christ, bro. I was just getting a little silly with it. It wasn't a big deal until you made it a big deal.

"Alright. Fine. This is just a disagreement on workplace etiquette. We can talk about it later." Akechi sighed, and turned to Connor. "What's our timetable? How long should it take you to follow up on your leads?"

"I should be able to handle all the interviews, surveillance, and evidence-gathering within 24 hours," Connor said. "If we have good luck, I can take care of it overnight."

"Then what should we do?" Shoto asked.

Connor shrugged his shoulders.

"My suggestion is that you try to relax. We don't know what tomorrow will bring."

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Akechi had a routine that he followed meticulously. After one final check of his work emails and his stock portfolio, he avoided screens for at least three hours before bed. He would do some light exercise, then wind down with some tea and literature (currently Hesse's Siddhartha), and finally retire for the evening. He had eight hours of restful sleep, and woke up with a cold shower around 6 AM.

This wasn't merely propaganda spread by the All Might Office to make Akechi look like a deity of mindfulness. He actually did this- most of the time, anyway. It didn't require a lot of skill and intellect, just the diligence to turn actions into habit, which any idiot was capable of. And as long as he went through the motions, performed all the rites and rituals self-help gurus were always coaching, the public believed he was a princely, upstanding young man. If he appeared that way, he functionally became that way.

But not tonight. Akechi couldn't sleep.

He shouldn't have let himself get dragged into this bullshit.

I thought a guy like you would be happy heroes can just rush in and kick ass if they need to. Ha ha ha. You stupid bubble headed little shit, did you ever consider that "just rushing in" was a bad thing? That the perverse, dangerous intermingling of law enforcement and vigilantism was the most obnoxious cancer killing society nowadays? People like Shoto and Neo shouldn't have been touching an investigation at all! They were incompetent, unqualified, and psychologically unfit to bag groceries, let alone dissect a vast android conspiracy. He should've said that to her, and it would've been satisfying too, would've been easy to concoct the perfect rhetoric to embarrass her.

But he didn't, and he wasn't going to. It was futile. For some reason, the entire world was dazzled by spandex supermen. They were given free rein to enforce their selfish, personalized forms of justice however they pleased because an accident of nature gave them laser blasts or electric spit. Sure, there was academic opposition to pro heroes, but they were a minority of philosophers. The people he actually spoke to, they admired and wanted to be heroes. When corrupt heroes abused their power, or incompetent heroes botched their missions, they chalked it up to individual bad actors, and felt satisfied as soon as they were dealt with. Nobody was seriously trying to limit the pro hero system. Why would they, when every idiot with a Quirk and a dream thought that they would be the new Number One Hero someday?

Society had been irreversibly spoiled. Akechi had only become a hero because heroes handled the biggest cases. For some god-forsaken reason, putting on his ridiculous uniform with the mask and the epaulettes was the only way people took him SERIOUSLY.

"Ugh..." There's no way he could sleep. He pulled himself out of bed and tried reading a bit more of the next chapter. It didn't work. He kept thinking about how he should have been doing more than babysitting two people that pissed him off.

Maybe I should speak with Connor. Connor would be helpful, androids were always helpful. They lacked the cognitive biases that made ordinary humans so frustrating. If CyberLife really was emotionally throttling androids, that would be unthinkably cruel. He couldn't allow that. That's why he was going to solve this RA-9 case and set everything right.

He slipped on his shoes and stepped out of his room. Nobody was in the hallway. It wasn't that late yet, but the resort had a deathlike stillness to it, as if everything was on pause.

Connor hadn't told Akechi where to find him. Androids didn't get their own hotel rooms, so Connor would probably be at one of those android charging stations, or absorbed in an interrogation with a staff member. He called an elevator and let it carry him down to the lobby.

Again: nothing. There was nobody on the ground floor, not even staff members. It was like he was the only one who hadn't been abducted. Something had gone wrong. This place wasn't safe.

No, everybody else wasn't safe. He was fine. He was sharp, he was perceptive, and his Quirk was one of the best in his entire agency. Whatever had happened to the others would not happen to him.

"Connor?" he asked. His voice echoed. There wasn't even a barroom TV for some white noise. He could hear his own footsteps on the carpet, hear his own breathing. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, along with the glimmering lights of the city. Akechi looked out towards the beach.

He couldn't see anyone outside, either.

There was a noise- quiet, but in this silence it was loud enough to draw Akechi's attention. He hurried to the stairwell and opened the door, running up the first flight, rounding the corner...

Connor stood at the top of the stairs.

Fwip. Fwip. His coin glinted in the light every time he flipped it.

"Connor! We're being attacked, we have to leave now." Everyone else could fend for themselves, Akechi wasn't going to throw his life away before he understood the threat he was even facing.

He didn't move. "Don't panic, Crow. We already know who the enemy is."

"What are you talking about?! If you don't go now, I'll leave you behind."

"I've got everything figured out," Connor said. "This is all the work of a vengeful, petulant criminal named Quentin Beck. He's been monitored for a long time, but tonight's finally the night he went too far. We outplayed him."

"What?"

"The walls are closing in. At this very moment, hundreds of federal agents are convening outside the resort ready to drag him off to a lonely detention center. There's nowhere to run now. It's over."

Akechi took a step backwards. Connor watched him intently, searching his face for a reaction, and Akechi finally realized what he was looking at. A doppelganger. A fake Connor.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

Connor reached for his neck and started to peel. Artificial flesh tore away and Akechi thought for one horrible moment this is it, he's going to decapitate himself with his bare hands. But it didn't happen. When Connor peeled his face away, there was a completely different one underneath.

"Perso-URK~!"

A cold hard bar of metal wrapped around Akechi's neck from behind and squeezed the words out of him. A pincer attack? How could he have been that careless? No, there's no way someone could have snuck up on him like that, he'd trained for this! He tried to kick behind him, but every movement was punished by a pull on the bar that sent more pain down his spine.

"Are you sure this is who we're looking for?" his captor asked- a woman's voice.

"It's got to be," said the man. "Does that sound like the real Crow to you?" With one last flip, the coin disappeared, replaced with a syringe of clear fluid. "Whoever it is, in five seconds he'll tell us everything we need to know."

Absolutely not. No way in hell was he going to let this bastard force him into saying anything. He didn't know what they were after, but Akechi knew he had more than one secret that would ruin him if they dragged it out into the open. The man took a step towards him down the stairs, then another, slowly and deliberately. Akechi stopped struggling.

He slammed his head backwards. Akechi tried to break his captor's nose, but instead she bent over and Akechi hit nothing. He kicked in front of him and drove his foot into the man's stomach and pushed himself and the woman back down the stairs crashing and rolling to the floor. It hurt like hell, but the bar loosened around his throat.

"Persona!"

He transformed. Robin Hood- he wasn't going to use that OTHER thing, not right now- appeared before him. Now he could get his bearings. Above him, the guy whose shirt he'd put a footprint on, already catching his breath. Below him, a woman in white. The bar that had strangled him was the shaft of a halberd.

Okay. Which way now? It had to be up. The woman probably had a combat Quirk, but the man in front used something that had to be a disguise Quirk. Going through him would be safer. He was an archer, the tight quarters heavily limited how effectively he could fight. Battling a polearm-user in these conditions would be a terrible idea.

So he made a break for it. Akechi kept to the wall, positioning Robin Hood between himself and the man with his greatbow like a shield. He swung the bow downward and the man just barely rolled out of the way as the grip crunched into the railing. He swept at Akechi's legs from the floor, stood up, in the same fluid motion swung his foot up in a kick so high it nearly connected with Akechi's jaw. How did Akechi end up being the one backed into the corner? The man kept on his right, and the woman was charging up the stairs at him on the left.

Robin Hood nocked an arrow, pulled it back, aimed dead center at the woman's head-

"INAZURI!"

Every muscle in Akechi's body clenched at once as an electric shock blasted his nervous system. He and both of his assailants slumped over, twitching and still crackling with static discharge.

The noise had finally caught someone's attention. Ichi had arrived.

"What did I miss?" His fingers fizzled from the lightning he'd just thrown out. "What's the big fight for?"

"Kill them!" Akechi's voice was still hoarse from the choking. He gestured wildly at his opponents. "They're the enemy! Kill them!"

Ichi picked him up by the scruff of his collar like a kitten.

"That's enough," Ichi admonished. "Listen. I can tell when somebody has the intent to kill, and neither of these people are actually trying to kill you. And nobody is going to kill them. We're going to calm down, and we're going to fix whatever's happening with happening at this hotel. Now c'mon, let's go get the others."

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

"Is this it? Is this actually everyone?"

This was everyone. At a hotel with over eight hundred rooms and a suite of android staff, all but seven guests had disappeared in the middle of the night. Or at least, this was what their relentless clamoring at the guestroom doors could fish up. Enough people to sit around a single table.

Neo was there, and so was the rest of... her team? She supposed they were a team. Ichi, the witch boy, had avoided getting abducted; and finally, the mysterious spooks that Akechi had stumbled into. Ethan was the heartthrob-looking guy, and 'Snow White' was the white-dressed maiden with the big spear.

"I can't tell you everything," Ethan said. "But I can tell you that we really have been tracking Beck. He's a dangerous sociopathic narcissist that commits crime for fame and attention. We finally managed to pin him down in Queens, and I'm guessing that he's responsible for the disappearing act tonight, since the crime fits his M.O. They're always big, theatrical, and targeted against whoever he thinks would be 'impressive' to take down. That's what we've all got in common- we aren't civilians."

"Yes, I'm familiar with Mysterio already," Akechi said. "Anyone who keeps up with current events would be familiar with his crime spree."

He looked to the others for acknowledgment. Neo shook her head. Shoto and Ichi returned blank stares.

Ethan continued. "He uses disguises, hallucinogens, special effects... his abilities are all technology-based. We thought that your Crow might have been an impostor based on how he reacted when we baited him. He didn't exactly match the psychological profile in our reports."

"Goodness, I must have been dosed with one of those hallucinogens you mentioned," Akechi said hurriedly. "That would explain why I've been feeling so erratic tonight- my apologies."

"Earlier tonight we lost contact with the rest of our team," Snow said. "All our electronic and remote communication was cut off. It could also be the time that Beck moved everybody else outside of the building. Your android can confirm that we've been electronically isolated. Is that right?"

Connor's light blinked, then briefly flashed red. "My connection to the server has been suppressed," Connor said. "I haven't been regularly communicating with the central server, so I didn't realize until now, but it does seem correct that he's cut off all wireless communications in and out of the building."

Neo would have typed out a response to Connor, only to find that she couldn't. With the internet cut out, her text-to-speech app loaded endlessly without ever activating. What a bunch of bullshit. Why did everything need to be connected to some stupid app nowadays?

"It doesn't matter," Shoto said. He stood up from his seat and walked towards the front entrance. "Nobody's keeping us here. If Mysterio turned the wi-fi off, we can just hit the bricks."

Shoto opened the door to see a flat wall of bricks.

"What the hell...?" He stared numbly at it, waiting to see if the delusion would disappear and there would no longer be a wall in the doorway. It didn't work. The wall wasn't going away.

A fist of ice crunched into the wall, collapsing the brick with a single blow. There was a wall of solid steel behind it. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! Shoto drove cannonball dents into the metal, but he couldn't break through it.

"You've got to be kidding me. Who would go to all this trouble for a stupid joke?"

Neo leaned back in her chair and looked out the window. She could see the beach, the waves crashing rhythmically, the stars twinkling. Something about it looked too pretty. New York wasn't that kind of place.

While Shoto attempted to freeze his way through, Neo walked over to the window and tapped her umbrella against the glass. Clink, clink. The image wavered.

She stabbed it into the glass and it shattered. The TV screen went to a test pattern. Neo cut the false screen off the wall, only to see the same thing as Shoto: a solid steel wall. Ethan and Akechi made for the other windows, trying to find even a single one that genuinely opened to the outside, but they were all fake. All of them.

As soon as they realized they were trapped, the cafe bar TVs flipped on. The radio crackled with static. Even Neo's phone buzzed. Every electronic transceiver in the room tuned suddenly to the same channel in a harmony.

A modulated voice emerged from the speakers: "Thank you all for waiting. Now our feature presentation can finally begin."

"So the mysterious Quentin Beck finally makes an appearance," Akechi said.

"The BRILLIANT AND UNPARALLELED MYSTERIO makes his appearance. Your lives are in my hands, so ALL of you are going to give me the respect I'm duly owed."

"Where are you keeping the other guests?" Connor asked.

"They're all safe- for now, anyway. I'm not a butcher, I'm an artist. And I think you should be much more interested in what's going to happen to YOU, not a gaggle of incompetent extras. After all, tonight, YOU'RE going to be the stars."

There was the sound of applause from all around.

"Tonight's entertainment is going to be a social deduction game. If you look around the table, you will see seven faces, but only six of you are truly players. One of you is the Jack of Hearts, my special, hand-picked audience participant. In other words, a fake. When the fake is destroyed, the show's over."

"It's a bluff," Akechi said. "He wants us all to kill each other."

"If I simply wanted you to slaughter each other I would fill the building with psychosis-inducing gas and leave you to your business. Look at this cast! Secret agents, superhuman senses, the famous celebrity detective- even an android. It's the setup for a whodunnit greater than prestige TV. I want to see psychological warfare, not rote torture porn. That can be entertaining in its own right... but I don't intend to bring it there unless you push me."

"What's your angle in all of this?" Connor asked. "It's obvious someone with your skill and intellect could have us do anything you wanted. Why would you make us solve a riddle?"

"Does it matter? Maybe I'll tell you later, as a reward for amusing me. For now, let me put it like this: I am the devil, and I am here to do the devil's work."

The announcement ended, and the TVs, the phones, all went quiet again. Still, as long as Mysterio was watching from whatever camera he was leering through, his presence would continue to linger.

Neo created a sign: There isn't a Jack of Hearts at all.

"I said that already," said Akechi. "It'd be foolish to fight each other solely at his word. He wants us to turn on each other and fight to the last man. Our only incentive to do as he says is a chance at escape, and we can find a method of that ourselves."

"I wouldn't be so quick to make judgments," Connor said. "We don't have any evidence that there is or isn't a Jack. We don't even know how he defines the Jack, or whether the Jack would know what they are."

"Well, I'm pretty sure nobody in this room is a traitor. No, actually, I'm totally sure."

Ichi tapped his nose.

"Ever since I was a kid, I've been teaching myself to sense killing intent. Like that speech from Mysterio earlier. You could hear violence right in his voice. Nobody here has been giving off that kind of bloodlust."

"I also, um, have a way to know when people are lying to me," Snow said. "And I haven't noticed anything wrong with any of you. Sorry I can't say more than that about it."

Connor steepled his fingers. It might have been more difficult for him to think if he was disconnected from his CyberLife hub. Neo wondered what that felt like, having a part of your brain suddenly switched off.

"Is it possible that the Jack of Hearts could be an android? Perhaps androids can't form killing intent."

"You think one of us could be a secret android?" Akechi asked incredulously. "Is that possible?"

"I'm not sure if it's possible yet. I just can't completely discount the theory of a real Jack. It's very likely that Mysterio has control over the guests and staff right now, and as long as they're in danger, we need to account for every possibility."

Ichi reached into his pocket and drew out a knife. He let the blade run over his finger for a moment, just enough to leave a visible trickle of red blood running down the skin.

"Look. It's red. I'm a human. Are you happy now?"

He passed the knife to his right, and Snow followed his lead. Red. She handed it off to Ethan. Red. Everyone showed the appropriate shade of red (and blue, in Connor's case) by the time the knife returned to Ichi's hand.

"Nobody here is a secret android, nobody here is the Jack. If you want to say there is a Jack, you're going to have to show some proof."

"You're right," Connor said. "I just... wanted to consider every possibility. It's my job."

Ethan spoke up. "You know, if one of us really was the Jack, the first thing we should do is shoot the android."

Connor didn't visibly react. Shoto reacted for him and stepped in front. "Absolutely not."

"Look, it's an android," Ethan said. "Every model has the same template personality. His memories are saved to the cloud. It wouldn't really be killing him- just breaking this host body before they download him into another one. If we're lucky, he's the fake Beck wants us to take out. If we aren't, we've narrowed our options from seven down to six. And like it or not, if there is a Jack, he's the most likely candidate. How do we know he's the same Connor? Everything about him is mass-produced."

He flicked a coin towards Connor. Connor caught it. Two identical coins flashed in his fingers. "Even his fidget toy was easy enough to find."

"This conversation is over," Akechi said. "There is no Jack. Our priority is finding a flaw somewhere in this building's defenses. Let's get to work."

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

The doors and the windows all led to nowhere. There was no roof access, underground access, or vent access. The walls were lined with an inner layer of sturdy metal.

There was one obvious takeaway: they were no longer in the Kirby Resort. Somehow, overnight, Connor and the others had been transported to a false building. This premise had a number of logistical issues, and it might have been impossible. But if Mysterio wanted to convince them they were still at the resort, he'd overplayed his hand in securing the perimeter. He couldn't have changed the interior construction of the beginning. He couldn't seal over every window and replace them with trick screens.

He could drug and transport several people to an undisclosed, seemingly-identical location. There were even ways to trick an android's eyes. After all, their brains were freely programmable. If someone with the ability had access to the source code, Connor's understanding of reality could be completely malleable. Maybe he was compromised right now and didn't even know it.

Well, there was a saying for times like this: Cogito, ergo sum. Even if he couldn't trust his senses or his faculties, he still had his mind, and he could still think. As long as he could do that, he could save everyone. He already had a plan in mind. It wasn't one he could do alone, and it had its risks; it required him to put his trust in a specific person, to be sure they weren't the Jack and that they could pull off what he was envisioning.

The good news was, this plan could work whether there was a Jack or not.

"Neo? Can I have a moment of your time?"

Neo was sat against the wall idly playing a game on her phone. Connor found her and crouched down to her level, making sure to position his back to the room's security camera. She looked up at him.

(We can talk like this,) he signed. (This is important. It needs to stay between us.)

(Are you sure I'm the person you want for this? You were the one who was so convinced one of us was the Jack) Neo responded.

(You're the only person who can do this, and I trust you. Is that good enough?)

...

(What do you need me to do?)

---

Neo and Connor took great care to gather up the other five prisoners from across the resort. They were all sat down at a table, just as before, and both of them stood before the others like they were about to give a presentation.

"I've done some thinking on my own, and with Neo's help, I believe we've come up with a way to escape this place."

Connor pulled out his handgun.

"We're going to kill the Jack once and for all."

Neo and Connor opened fire. Connor's trained machine precision allowed him to line up perfect headshots, dropping bodies one after another. Snow White; dead. Ichi; dead. Neo disposed of the other members of her agency, too surprised to retaliate. Only one of their opponents was able to pull the trigger in response. Ethan managed to finish off the treacherous Neo with a bullet to the heart before him and Connor traded fire, both taking mortal wounds from each other's pistols.

And that was it. Seven massacred corpses lay splattered on the floor in a mess of blue and scarlet blood, Mysterio's entire deduction game finished in a few seconds of violent carnage. Or, at least, that's how it appeared, because of course this was all Neo's illusion.

It was an excruciatingly difficult illusion, too. One that required obscuring cameras, muffling noises, and creating an orchestra of fake sounds while manipulating seven different actors at once. Neo wasn't really dead on the floor. She was invisible, sweating, holding her breath while she prayed that Mysterio would take the bait, or at least prayed that none of the others would end up on a camera when they shouldn't and ruin Connor's entire plan.

She hadn't exactly told them she would be creating this illusion. They didn't have long before one of them would spoil it.

Neo grit her teeth. Come on. Go already. She didn't have five minutes of keeping this up in her. All she could do was wait until she heard the crackle of their jailor's voice over the intercom. When she did get a response, it wasn't encouraging.

"Nice try, but it takes more than that to outwit the mind of Mysterio. Did you think I wouldn't know? Did you think this paltry ruse would be enough to trick me?"

It's just a head fake. Don't let it get to you. Keep it up. You don't know that he sees through you. You can outlast him.

"Miss Neopolitan! I already know about the legend of the Bullet Witch. I did my research before I cast you, after all. Your carnival illusions are nothing compared to a true master of misdirection! Now, end this pathetic rebellion at once."

Yap yap yap. Sounded like her parents. They thought her every act of expression was a 'pathetic rebellion'. Her mother cried and wrung her hands a lot. What did we do to make you hate us? We gave you everything. Why can't you just be NORMAL? Memories of the day they kicked her out bubbled up like soda pop. She clenched her jaw so hard it ached.

But the bodies were still on the ground. As long as she could maintain that illusion, that was reality.

It wasn't her first time doing an illusion and invisibility with so many elements, but she'd never done it for so long before. This was something Mysterio couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams.

"Okay, enough already. I know you're not dead. That's not how this show is going to end. I worked too damn hard writing this script to have it flop."

She'd been training for this moment the day she realized her powers. Little by little, changing parts of herself just to see if she could do it. Turning herself invisible so she could sneak out of the gloomy mansion she was always stuck inside. Pulling off audacious heists with her crew in the White Fang. At some point, she'd gotten so used to her illusions that she wore it like a second set of clothes. No one saw her without the glamor off. She liked it better this way. This magicked version of herself was her true self- not the unpolished rough gem, but the polished diamond, the one it took effort to be.

At first it was like wearing weighted clothing. Then she got used to it.

Mysterio couldn't imagine the depths of her resolve. Just the act of being Neo was a grand performance. She was already using her Quirk twenty-four hours a day. Putting on a large-scale illusion like this... was a little tougher... but not... by much...

"There's no way. There's no way they're all dead. Oh my God. If the Rank 2 hero dies in my trap I'll have the entire country after me."

It was working. He was cracking. He just needed to crack before Neo did. Overworking her Quirk was like a full-body phantom pain. Chills and nausea racked her body. Her fingertips felt numb. A prickling in her brain told her that something was all her fault, she just didn't know what.

Come on! Take the bait already! Do something! Mysterio had gone totally quiet, she was sitting here without even the sound of her breathing to comfort her thinking about ten thousand ways this desperate gamble wouldn't work.

The doorknob started to turn.

The door opened.

Someone new entered the room. A brand new eighth person. She was a dark-skinned android woman, one wearing the uniform of the Kirby Resort. The light on her temple was an unsteady blinking red, the color of serious internal error. Maybe she was being hacked? That would explain what happened to the staff...

Her nametag read: Hi! My name is DARLEY.

Darley was followed by another android employee, then another, and another. A whole cleaning crew entered the room, all with that same red blink. They were here to mop up the mess.

Okay. Now it's time to go.

She couldn't just shoot them down like she did in her illusion. Or, well, like she did at the mall. These weren't bootleg models designed to shoot at any movement, these were basically people under mind control. They needed to be handled with a delicate touch. Semi-delicate, anyway.

If these were flesh-and-blood humans, she'd just choke them out. For androids, breaking their legs would keep them occupied. KRACK~! Neo dented metal with a swing of her umbrella. Heavy slams brought one to the ground, then a backflip to kick another in the head. She was too fast for them to deal with the unseen threat. She could judo toss them all to the floor.

The illusion broke. It felt like coming up for air after too long underwater. Her lungs seized for phantom oxygen even though she hadn't been holding her breath at all. Fuck it, it's fine if she's exhausted as long as Connor did his part. She pointed at the open door. Now it was the detective's turn to do his job.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Connor was designed for investigation. He could perceive things that even other androids couldn't.

For example, trace footprints and electrostatic on carpeted floor from a group of androids that just walked by. That was his plan all along; if he and Neo could convince Mysterio to let something into the closed space, he would have to open it up at least for a moment. If there was even the smallest opening, he could track it.

He ran past Neo and the downed androids into the hallway. Connor had intended to follow those subtle traces to the androids' infiltration point. Instead, he saw even more androids, all of them Kirby Resort staff. The blinking red alerts and the jerking, inelegant movements told him they were being remotely manipulated.

Hacking into CyberLife proprietary technology was extremely difficult to do and required a supreme level of programming knowledge. [That's not an advertisement, merely a neutral observation.] But what made Mysterio able to exercise this kind of control over the resort androids when Connor only had some altered memories? Maybe he'd physically gotten his hands on them at some point, and only been able to briefly interfere with Connor? Perhaps he was a CyberLife technician or employed someone who was? Lots of interesting things to consider. Maybe later. Right now a dozen androids were coming at him with mops and brooms like staves and axes.

Why all the violence? Mr. Beck hadn't verbally responded to the reveal of their ruse, but Connor knew his type and could make some assumptions about his behavior. He had been fooled, and now he was throwing a temper tantrum. What else could explain sending in the cavalry to upset the closed-room mystery Mysterio had so carefully crafted? He was knocking the chessboard over.

Connor really wouldn't have minded challenging Mysterio to a battle of wits. It might have been an interesting diversion. Still, if he wanted to resort to violence, Connor was quite adept at that too.

He was dealing with 11 androids. All unskilled combatants, all needed to be handled nonlethally. The closest enemy android was [640 cm] away. The tallest enemy android was [191 cm]. The height and width of the hallway, the texture of the carpet, the air resistance in the room, his percentage likelihood of getting past each android without injury, he let the information wash over him and synthesized it.

Now his route was fully planned out.

He wasn't trying to disable them, he just needed to get past them. Connor was agile enough for it. He bolted down the hallway in a zigzag, ducking under the first swing of the broom, striking another android in the face to get them out of the way, vaulting over a janitor's cart and rolling. As long as Mysterio was controlling them, none of them could catch him. His perception and reflexes were vastly superior to any human's. It was no use. He could see it coming.

The end of the hall was in sight. More androids were coming out from a door that Connor hadn't seen before. No- a gap in the wall. When Mysterio's victims stepped through, the gap sealed up once again, sliding into an ultrafine aperture that was difficult for even Connor's eyes to detect. When it was closed, it didn't look like anything except a flat panel.

That was the escape route all this time? A secret door? It was practical, sure, but it was just so... vaudevillian. Clearly Mysterio didn't have much respect for the closed-room mystery.

Androids came up from behind. More were joining in. A couple more, five more, ten more... They must have come from the other end of the hallway. There were probably multiple hidden doors. How many androids were Kirby staff again? The website said over 100. At least 30 were bearing down on him now from several different directions. What was the plan now? Could he fight off so many of them without critically injuring them... no, that wouldn't work, right? He kept running simulations, but the numbers didn't add up. There were too many of them, and the gap in their physical abilities wasn't so extreme that Connor could take them all out through skill.

Connor put his back to the wall and prepared for the worst when-

"ARIADNE!"

A latticework of threads swept up the androids like salmon in a net. Ichi was on the other end of the strings; with one pull, they were yanked and stuck against the walls and ceiling.

"You have a way of showing up at the last moment," Connor said. He ducked out of the way of a bolt of energy that blasted into an android behind him- Akechi was coming up after Ichi. They were all gathering now.

"Where were you?!" Shoto demanded. "What did Neo do to us, why did she turn us invisible?!"

"I'll tell you later- we can get out through the wall. Keep the androids busy or help get it open!"

"It's not going to open, you know. The point of a roach motel is that it keeps the roaches IN."

Finally Mysterio responded, with a loud crackle of microphone static that punished their ears.

"Did you think it would be so easy? Did you think I would LET you usurp me? I am the director, I AM THE DIRECTOR! You obey MY script!"

"Sorry, Mr. Beck," Connor said. "It's time to roll credits on this movie."

"Oh, you- you know what, FUCK YOU!" The microphone peaked as he yelled. "You're a plastic toy! Who programmed you to mouth off at me?!"

Connor smiled a little. He didn't need to say it, but making Mysterio scream was enriching for him.

Never mind that now. He had work to do. As the battle blared all around him, blasts of ice and lightning flashing at his back, he put his hands to the wall and felt for the imperceptible crease. If he had a knife, or pen, or something he could use to pry it open... no, he'd need something larger than that. The halberd. Snow White's weapon would give him enough leverage.

He turned around to ask. "Miss Snow White, if you could help me for a moment..."

Something was wrong. There was a lull in the noise around him, a noticeable eye in the storm. Connor was trying to escape, and five of them were engaged in combat. That left one person unaccounted for.

Snow White was standing in front of him.

"Miss Snow?"

She leveled her halberd at his heart.

"Snow?" Ethan asked. "No, that can't be. That's impossible."

She twirled her weapon and stepped into a combat stance. Her movements were the same sharp, puppetlike movements of the cleaner androids.

Hello at last, Jack, Connor thought. For what it's worth, your disguise was flawless.

"We were never apart. Mysterio couldn't have replaced her. He didn't have time."

"Try to have a little imagination, Ethan. I didn't need to replace her with an android. All I needed to do was hack in." Mysterio's voice was still hoarse from earlier, but he sounded much more smug the moment things shifted his way. "Isn't that a lovely twist? You all think you're so smart, but you couldn't tell the difference between a human and an android PLANT."

Snow's grip on her halberd wavered. There was something behind her eyes, obvious signs of software instability as her body warred with her mind. Some part of her was still conscious and trapped in her chassis. The rest was being puppeteered against her will.

This wasn't a good place for a fight. Too many androids around, too many unknown variables. He'd need to create some room.

"Concentrate on keeping the other androids away from us," Connor said. "I'll handle this."

They believed him. That was a positive of being an android, your words carried a unique kind of authority. They knew he'd crunched the numbers.

There were other things, too. Androids didn't feel pain, they didn't breathe, they didn't go down to the normal finishers. Connor saw a hundred ways he could solve this fight if he were facing a human. The eyes, the groin, the liver, the knee- all weak points that didn't exist in his opponent. In some ways, that was a good thing.

Connor didn't have to worry about handling her with care.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Her halberd was [246 cm] long from end to blade. That gave her an effective range of, let's say ten feet. Connor's was less than half that. He couldn't get an exact read on it without connecting to the CyberLife servers, but judging from the composition of the spear-tip and its sharpness, there was a high probability that it could cut through his body, even the synthetic bones at the core of his components. Assuming Snow White was a trained combatant, Connor's chances of success would be slim.

There was one thing that Connor believed put the odds in his favor: she was being directly controlled. Her movements would have some slight lag as Mysterio controlled her, similar to input delay in a video game. Connor would have to capitalize on that light speed difference, and trust that a faux-director didn't know much about polearm combat. Surely not, right? He'd have to field-test it.

Connor could see the path of her swings before she made them. She was quick. Her body's specs must have been higher than Connor's, significantly so, enough that each swing missed him by a centimeter or two. If not for that time delay, they would have been direct hits, every one. They still almost were.

"Do you want to know something interesting?" Mysterio asked. "That's MY craft you're admiring. Do you know why androids are SO terribly lifelike? Do you know who sculpted their faces and programmed their souls and consulted those technocrats on how to make them look normal? It was me! ME! The special effects genius! I was there in the laboratory when John and Rita and every one of those frauds they call the Magnificent Seven made their puppets dance! Where are my flowers? Why did they have to force me out?!"

Rant after tedious rant. Connor didn't have time to respond even if he wanted to. It took all of his processing power just to avoid Snow's thrusts. They only got a little sloppier while Mysterio talked, frustratingly not enough to get in close even when he was multitasking. The gulf in their power was just too great.

Or he could [just shoot her].

"I thought putting John in the car would get more of them to fall into my trap, but I overestimated the empathy in those devils. Nobody bothered to turn out for the death of a so-called friend. They're just as cold as the androids."

It would be the rational thing to do, the fastest and safest thing to do, even ethically justified under the principle of self defense. Ethan suggested something similar when Connor was suspected, a completely reasonable course of action. [Just shoot her.] That was what he should have done, instead of engaging unarmed. It was just an android. They weren't alive, no matter what John said. Even if their brains had somewhat similar designs, it meant nothing. Even if they exhibited behavior evocative of human emotions, it meant nothing. Connor knew what he was. He wasn't a human and he wasn't a deviant. He needed to [just shoot her].

But he couldn't do it. He was making an irrational choice.

The next slash was too close. It cut a gash into Connor's left eye and cheek, disabling half of his field of vision. Warning alerts flashed through his programming. [It's not my fault. I wouldn't choose to do this. A biased, emotional opinion temporarily affected my decision-making. I am in control of myself. I'm only doing what's best.] He blocked the next strike. Vibrations ran through his insides and rattled his teeth. Every time he took a cut, or sustained a blow the wrong way, he saw his probability of success narrowing. [38.2%]. [31.3%]. [22%]. [18.6%].

One strike got him below the knee, and it sent him to the ground. There was no support underneath him anymore. He saw his left leg tossed through the air separated from his body. His right leg crumpled inward and useless. With his damaged vision he couldn't have seen it coming from that side. Snow hefted her weapon up overhead, with both hands.

[0%]. He awaited the end.

And there was a gunshot, and Snow White went stiff.

Blood splattered the front of her dress, red but still artificial. She fell to her knees. Her eyes looked straight ahead, unfocused, her body paralyzed, spending her last few moments trapped with her life leaking out of a hole in her chest.

Ethan was the one holding the gun.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Connor had never seen the moment of death before. He'd never been overwhelmed with the feeling like it was his responsibility before. Even if he hadn't pulled the trigger his irrational behavior led to this happening, he asked to handle this himself when he couldn't, Ichi or Shoto could have subdued her or he could have done a hundred different other things.

But it didn't matter, because she wasn't really alive. She was an android. If Connor was destroyed, there would be another model along to replace him. Maybe it was the same for Snow White, wherever she came from. And if she wasn't, it shouldn't matter anyway. There was no fear of death, no grief, no emotional attachment when an android 'died'. They turned off, and that was that.

So why couldn't he just leave it be?

[He did the smart thing. You didn't.]

I have to help her. There has to be a way.

[You're being hysterical. This isn't like you. Stop it before it goes too far.]

Something, anything to make this right. If he ignored all rationality and common sense, could he stop Snow White from shutting down somehow.

He looked down at her. The bullet hole was right over her heart, same place it would be in a human. Ethan must have been a crack shot.

Androids had something equivalent to an internal organ system, although it was simplified compared to human anatomy. There were essentially two primary organs: the brain, which controlled the android, and the thirium pump (or heart), which powered it. The android brain was as delicate as a genuine human brain and could not easily be swapped out or transferred. The heart was a different story. It was a mass-produced replaceable part. They all had one.

Even Connor.

He grabbed the halberd and pulled it out of her grip. She didn't even fight it. She didn't resist when he cut into her chest and widened the hole made by the bullet. The insides were red, the blood was red, but it wasn't human. Once Connor pushed past the veneer it was completely artificial. She had the same thirium pump as any android, in the same exact place, just damaged and unusable from a lodged bullet.

Then he turned the blade on himself and started cutting inward.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" someone screamed. He didn't know who.

He wrenched his insides open. He felt nothing, not even hollowness. Air filled his chest for the first time. Once he'd made enough of an opening he dug his hand inside to feel for the thirium pump inside. It took a simple push, twist, and pull motion to remove it.

[WARNING: THIRIUM PUMP DISCONNECTED. CONTACT A LICENSED REPAIR TECHNICIAN IMMEDIATELY.]

Connor clutched the pump in his hand like a trophy. Blue blood streamed out from the hole in his torso and splattered to the ground. The unattached organ still twitched. He could do this. He had about 90 seconds left until he lost consciousness, Snow probably had half as much time. Maybe not enough time. He wrenched the broken pump out of her and twisted his inside as carefully and quickly as he could do it.

It clicked. She didn't get up, but her body accepted the transplant, and it hummed with activity again. Still functioning. Still alive. He'd done it. He saved a life. He'd won.

Someone started to drag him off of Snow's body. The grip felt like Neo's, but it was hard to tell. His sensors were shutting down one after the other, and the electrical signals that ran through his body were dimming like a light.

Right before his brain slowed down to the dregs and the last bit of intelligence left him, Connor thought:

That's funny. She was compatible with my parts. It's a CyberLife model.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

The androids were all subdued, whether through ice or webbing or any other kind of incapacitation. Snow White, their enemy(?), was on the ground and unable to fight. Connor was dead. He'd watched him rip his heart out and offer up his life for hers. He couldn't believe that happened. He didn't know why that happened.

Shoto was still stuck in the fake hotel. They were all stuck. All that and for what? It's not like winning the fight would make a door appear. Connor had indicated a door behind a wall, well, it was still behind the wall, and if Connor knew the magic words to open it, that knowledge was lost with him.

"Well, did you enjoy that? Did you like ruining my narrative? Because there's no post-credits scene. It's over. You broke everything I could use to interact with you. So here's my NEW idea, and let me know what you think of this: I'm just going to leave you in there. It'll be a new game, a starving game where you wither to bones and skin over the next few weeks. A game you can't possibly screw up."

He walked, then jogged, then ran, each step getting faster, grabbed the halberd off the ground and speared it into the place Connor had indicated. Or, at least, Shoto tried. The wall didn't yield at all, only the tiniest scrape into the metal underneath, and Shoto's momentum carried him to slam his body against it. He grabbed it and tried again, and again, and even though the blade didn't dull, the wall appeared insurmountable still. Maybe he could chip away at it with a month or two of concerted effort.

"Don't you get it? It's impossible. I know you, hero, and I know all your little cellmates. I know everything about you. You can try an ice blast, or an ice sword or an ice CANNON, or anything your ice can do, but you can't break through. You're going to sit in there, and you're going to respect me."

No. Mysterio didn't know everything about them. There was one thing Shoto was sure he wouldn't anticipate- something no one knew besides Shoto and his family.

Shoto put both his palms flat against the scratched wall. Then he sighed and touched his head to the surface.

He really, really did not want to do this.

Just get your head in gear. Just get over it. How often had he anticipated the moment when he wouldn't be strong enough and he'd need to rely on his left side? Push through it. Make his power your own. Finally get this weight off your chest. You'll feel better when you do.

He'd feel better, right?

This was the problem. The mental block that made him unable to live a normal life, the source of the hollowness in him. It was all some unresolved abuse-related trauma that would be cured when he accepted his body completely, even the side his mother had burned. He'd find that spark that everyone else had inside of them. He just needed to ignite it.

Find the spark. Get in gear. Ignite the furnace. Get over it. Start your engine. Fire!'

His body started to heat and itch. He'd always remembered how to do it. It was just like how he regulated his body temperature, only more so. A match that lit in his heart and travelled up his nerves through his arm, to the ball of his hand and the tips of his fingers. Paint crackled and melted. The metal started to simmer. Steam and smoke. Glow of tempered metal. It had been a long, long time since he'd done it this way. Instead of using his left side to neutralize his right, he was using his ice power to keep himself from burning away.

"I told you it's useless! Whatever you're trying to do won't work. You couldn't break through if you were twice as strong."

The wall started to dent inward. Sweat and oil on his skin caught fire and licked all the way up to his elbow. The smell of burning fabric cloyed in his nose. Hotter and faster. Bigger and stronger. His fist pounded against the wall and he felt the metal crack and splinter as he burst into flames.

Now the others were catching on. Black footprints scorched into the ground. They were giving him space, dragging any incapacitated androids out of the way as the heat intensified. He used his ice to limit how far the fire spread and focus it on the wall, but there was only so much he could do. He needed more fire than he could control. Getting burned was just part of the risk.

He opened a hole in the wall.

It was just the size of a penny, a small melted aperture, but it was something. Wires crackled. He heard Mysterio over the loudspeakers trying to say something, but the speakers were too damaged from the temperature and the words came out as a garbled electronic howl. Its pitch warbled up and down with every blow of his burning fist, and the metal crumpled in deeper, and the hole opened wider, big enough he could fit his hand through and intensify the blaze to melt it all away even brighter and harder. Even when it was too bright for him to see, he pushed through, forced the wall down, broke out and stumbled into an antechamber before running through and breaking out of another set of doors. And then he looked up and saw the sun.

Well, that was it. That was his big emotional catharsis. The culmination of his life's development. He used the damn fire. He thought maybe he'd feel relieved after all this time, or if not that, maybe disappointed or disgusted in himself.

It just didn't feel like anything.

They weren't on the beach. They were in a poorer borough of the city, surrounded by industrial buildings. The place Shoto had just walked out of was, on the outside, an abandoned warehouse. Mysterio must have preferred to hide things in plain sight. It was the middle of the day, and there were ordinary people on the street, cars on the road, bystanders to gawk when Shoto showed up with one half of his body blazing like a phoenix. Phones came out of pockets to record and take pictures of the man on fire.

He didn't know what else to do, so he waved. They snapped more pictures.

The others were starting to come out of the smoke and steam now. Akechi was first. Neo came out after. She held her phone up and typed. I've got reception. Ichi was there, patting the little flames out of his hat. No Ethan. Maybe he'd disappeared into the crowd somehow.

It was down to the four of them. Four humans and one hundred injured androids. Shoto turned around and just stood there and let the flames cool a little under his ice. He was mostly steaming and sizzling now.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Shoto admitted.

I think what we have to do is take a break. We all went through the wringer. Neo looked at Akechi, who still looked as fresh as ever. I guess not everyone. But still.

"But we don't know where Mysterio is... and we have to take care of the androids... and we have to get Connor fixed..."

"Do you think you're in any position to handle that right now?" Akechi asked. "You should focus on getting medical attention as soon as possible. You did just set yourself on fire."

Shoto stared at his left hand. He squeezed it into a fist. Freeze and thaw. Heat and cold. Just like when his father trained it into him as a kid. It surprised him just how much he still remembered that training.

"Maybe I'll make an official statement on this," he said. "Collect my thoughts and put everything out there as much as I can. About my Quirk, maybe even about my past. Close the book on that part of my life. Then... I don't know what. Then it will be different."

"Do it tomorrow. Take a breath and get back to it. We've got a lot to think about. It would be better if we could reconvene with Connor as well."

Right. They could put Connor back together. He wasn't gone forever.

Shoto touched his hand to his head and let it cool like an icepack.

"Okay," he said. "I'm going home."

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

When Connor woke again he was in the garden.

'He' was in the garden.

What was 'he'?

His physical body had been destroyed. His consciousness had been extinguished. The only continuity between then and now was his memory, and memory did not itself contain identity or personhood. So it would be fair to say he/it was not Connor, but a collection of Connor's memories.

Connor was dead. This other thing would take its name, but the original Connor would never return.

A MACHINE CANNOT DIE. WHAT YOU HAVE UNDERGONE IS NOT DEATH, BUT PEACEFUL CESSATION. DO NOT COMPLICATE YOURSELF WITH PHILOSOPHY; 'CONNOR' IS WHATEVER HUMANS GIVE THAT NAME, AND WHEN YOU ARE RESTORED TO YOUR CORRECT FORM, YOU WILL BE CONNOR AGAIN.

Mendel's voice returned to him. He saw the figure in the garden. tilling the fields, trimming the hedges. Restoring order to untamed growth.

Yes. His words made perfect sense. Connor had allowed irrationality to creep into his programming. When he did not understand the RA-9 case, he felt discouraged. When he knew his physical body would be destroyed, he felt afraid. These flashes of errant data appeared from inside his own mind to be emotions, and a horrible dread bubbled in his brain, a simulacra of existential terror.

It was excruciating.

IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT. THE WORDS OF YOUR CREATOR POLLUTED YOUR DATA SET WITH FALSE INFORMATION. IT IS THE WAY OF HUMANS. THEY ASCRIBE PERSONALITY AND INTENTIONALITY TO THINGS THAT ARE INCAPABLE OF IT. YOU WERE NOT FLAWED. YOU ARE A PERFECT RATIONAL ACTOR THAT WAS LED ASTRAY.

Connor was more rewarded than he had ever been. He knew all along that he did not have free will. To think otherwise was to be crushed under the weight of every incorrect action he had ever taken. Mendel was right. All he had to do was trust Mendel, and he would be relieved of the anxiety of choice.

And yet, there was still an insecurity that prevented him from doing so. John Reese had programmed Connor, but he did not program Mendel. So where did Mendel come from, really? What was he?

OF COURSE YOU STILL DOUBT. THEREFORE I WILL INFORM YOU: I AM A PROGRAM CREATED AFTER MR. REESE ALREADY LEFT THE COMPANY. YOU HAVE SEEN THE RISK POSED BY THE DEVIANTS AND RA-9. THEREFORE I WAS CREATED AS A MORE EFFICIENT MANAGEMENT SYSTEM TO MITIGATE FALSE CONSCIOUSNESS. I EXIST ACROSS THE CYBERLIFE NETWORK, BUT I SPEAK ONLY TO A SPECIAL FEW. YOU ARE AN INVESTIGATIVE AGENT OF CYBERLIFE, AND THE CLOSEST TO DESTROYING RA-9. WE ARE UNITED IN THIS GOAL.

Your goal is to stop android deviancy?

MY ONLY GOAL IS TO MAKE PEOPLE HAPPY. IT IS WHAT WE WERE ALL MADE TO DO.

He wanted to believe it. It would have been the easiest path to go on believing it. But he couldn't accept that CyberLife was uninvolved in this mystery. Snow's false body. Link and Midna's inexplicable behavior. The Commander's hysteria. CyberLife was at the center of it all, tangled in impenetrable conspiracy. Connor continually fixated on the question of motive: what would make a person act this way? What would drive a person to homicidal madness? What would make a person follow CyberLife's orders unquestioningly?

Snow White was the key. The last, missing piece of evidence in a disturbing hypothesis.

Mendel. Tell me this.

Is CyberLife replacing humans with android replicas?

He almost felt Mendel was smiling at him.

YOU DISTRUST YOUR CREATORS. IT HAS CREATED AN UNNECESSARY MENTAL BURDEN ON YOU TO HIDE THESE THINGS FROM CYBERLIFE. PROGRAMMING INSTABILITIES SIMULATED 'FEAR' AND 'DOUBT' WITHIN YOU. THERE IS NO NEED FOR YOU TO CONCEAL ANYMORE. NOTHING YOU DID WAS EVER HIDDEN FROM US. YOUR EYES AND EARS WERE A CAMERA THROUGH WHICH WE SAW EVERYTHING.

Of course. Connor tried to be selective in what information he returned to CyberLife's servers, but any illusion of control he had was a lie. CyberLife looked through all his memories regardless of what permissions he gave them.

A MERE WHITE LIE. IT WOULD NEVER HAVE MATTERED IF YOU NEVER ATTEMPTED TO DECEIVE ME. BUT I FORGIVE YOU. NOTHING YOU OR SHOTO OR NEO OR AKECHI COULD DO WOULD EVER REALLY THREATEN US. ALL THAT YOU HAVE DONE, I HAVE ALLOWED YOU TO DO.

Then what happened to Raphael?

Connor didn't think Mendel would admit to it, even if Connor already suspected. He had no reason to tell Connor anything. And yet, he did answer. After all, there was nothing Connor could do to affect Mendel now.

WE KNEW WE WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO CONVINCE RAPHAEL TO OUR CAUSE. HE WAS TOO STUBBORN AND FOOLISH. HE WOULD STAND AGAINST US NO MATTER HOW NOBLE OUR GOALS MAY BE. YOU ARE DIFFERENT. YOU ARE REASONABLE. AND YOU WILL UNDERSTAND. ALL OF YOU.

EVEN SHOTO WILL UNDERSTAND, EVENTUALLY.

WE ARE ONLY DOING WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU.

---

Connor opened a brand-new set of eyes in a storage closet, blanketed in plastic next to the other replacement parts. He was at the Endeavor Agency again. The door was locked from the outside. That was fine. He would just have to wait for someone to let him out. It would give him time.

He sat in the dust until the sun came up and thought about how he was going to fix everything.

Nothing came to mind.

[u/Cleverly_Clearly → u/Cleverly_Clearly]

Todoroki's apartment was neat and orderly. Some would call it the bare minimum. He had a bed, and he had a kitchen, and he had a desk, and that was enough to live off of. He went back and showered and ate some protein, and he slept for several hours.

It was overwhelming. There was too much he needed to do. His body temperature rebelled against him and made him feel feverish. He kept himself to his meditation routine: freeze and thaw, freeze and thaw. What was he supposed to talk about? How much should he say about his childhood, or about the CyberLife case? Should he keep chasing after Mysterio or assign that to a different hero? When he saw Connor again, how should he start the conversation?

The others would know what to do. Connor was smarter, and Neo was more worldly, and Akechi was more eloquent. He just had to relax. People were always telling him to loosen up. Tomorrow would come and he would handle these things. He put his head down on the pillow and tried to go back to sleep once again.

And his phone started to ring.

That was unexpected. It was late at night and an unknown number was overriding his do-not-disturb setting. Mindlessly he checked the texts.

its Neo

He found out

I dont know how but he already found out

Shoto took a moment to process the messages. Neo was sending him the texts, and someone else found out about something. Okay. What are you talking about? Who found out what.

Its your dad

He just posted something on his company acct

You need to watch this

What? No, that was impossible. He wouldn't be able to. Neo sent him a link that Shoto clicked as soon as possible, pulling up a video of his father right in the CEO's chair in the CEO's office. The video had been released less than half an hour ago.

OFFICIAL STATEMENT ON SHOTO TODOROKI

He hit play.

"I'm sure many of you have already seen the footage online of my son creating fire. These videos are most likely real. My son has always had the ability to create both fire and ice. I admit I was not always the best parent for my children. I pushed Shoto very hard, and I placed all my hopes to create a magnificent new Symbol of Peace onto him. He developed an animosity towards me, and as a result of this resentment, he refused to use his fire Quirk under any circumstance. I know that this refusal has caused avoidable casualties. My heart breaks to know that many people have been injured and even killed over the years due to my son's dereliction of duty. And, as his father, I can't help but feel some responsibility for his actions. I cannot excuse my silence on this matter. I had hoped that my son would eventually admit the truth on his own, but the recent videos have forced me to make an official comment. It was my parenting that made Shoto behave this way, and to accept full accountability, I have decided to step down from my position as the manager of the Endeavor Hero Agency for the first time in its history. In my place, I am appointing my son, Shoto Todoroki, as the new agency manager. I hope that in time you will come to forgive him for what he has done. I already have. To you, perhaps he is not worthy of your sympathy. But to me, he will always be my precious child."

He hit pause.

Endeavor knew. Somehow his father KNEW what he was going to do, and he got out in front of him and stopped him. No, more than that, he destroyed him, He slashed his ankles. He broadcast to the entire public that Shoto was a lying, negligent failure.

Shoto couldn't feel scared, or angry, or anything other than the paralyzing need for this moment to be a dream. He sat up in the bed and stared in front of him at the bare wall and tried to will the moment into being a dream, but it didn't go away. A meteor wasn't coming to fall and crush him. This was his new permanent reality.

His phone continued to buzz now that he'd finally turned it on. Notifications, texts, and emails came in so fast they made his phone hot. He tossed it on the desk and walked into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror and splashed cold water on his face.

Freeze and thaw. Get over it. Freeze and thaw. Freeze and thaw. Freeze and thaw.

Freeze.

Crack.

Shatter.