Night in Musutafu was a living thing—neon lights, crowded streets, and shadows that danced between alleyways. The city never truly slept. But it was unprepared for what was about to walk its streets.
Masato stood in a dark alley, dressed in a simple black hoodie, tactical pants, and combat boots. His face was partially hidden beneath a visor mask that displayed faint blue lines across the eyes—data filters, courtesy of Garaki's tech.
Above him, the towering skyline of Musutafu stretched toward the stars.
"So this is the world of heroes..." he murmured.
His first steps outside the lab had been... jarring. Crowds. Laughter. Color. Things he'd only seen through monitored recordings. Freedom, at least in the way Garaki allowed it, now felt both intoxicating and dangerous.
"Remember, Masato," Garaki's voice buzzed in his earpiece, "you are not to draw the attention of the Pro Heroes yet. We are gathering data. You are to observe. Intervene only when necessary."
Masato watched a gang of thugs dragging a civilian into a dark warehouse across the street.
"Define 'necessary,'" he said coldly.
Without waiting for a reply, he leapt from the alley, vanishing into the darkness.
---
Inside the warehouse, five men armed with shock batons and quirks were laughing over their catch—a teenage girl with a bleeding arm and torn uniform.
"Didn't your school teach you not to walk alone at night, sweetheart?" one growled, crackling electricity between his fingers.
Then the lights blinked. Once. Twice. Dead.
Silence.
A moment later, a man burst through the metal roof, slamming into the concrete floor hard enough to cause a mini shockwave.
The thugs were thrown back. One hit the wall and didn't get up.
From the smoke, Masato emerged. Hood up. Mask glowing faintly.
The leader roared. "Who the hell—?!"
Boom.
Masato moved in a blur—Kinetic Circuit chaining his every step to walls, crates, beams—striking like a storm of precision and power. His movements were perfectly efficient, cold, and devoid of wasted motion.
One went down. Then another.
Masato twisted in midair, activating MyoMorph to condense his muscle structure into a solid mass. He elbowed the electric quirk-user in the jaw with the force of a sledgehammer.
Only one remained.
Masato landed calmly and looked at the trembling last man.
"Run."
He didn't need to say it twice.
Once the girl was safe and the area secure, Masato melted into the shadows, vanishing before the police or any heroes could arrive.
Garaki's voice came through moments later.
"That was... excessive."
"They were going to kill her."
"True," Garaki admitted. "But next time, perhaps don't destroy public infrastructure."
Masato ignored him. His heart was still pounding.
For the first time, he'd done something not on Garaki's orders.
For the first time... he made a choice.