A Flash of Gold
(Kinkaku-Ji, the Golden Pavilion - Kyoto)
I. Old Wounds
Thunder crashed outside the Daiichi manor. Luccione was on the floor bleeding. He understood he was hurt, but he'd long nullified the worst effects of pain. His eyes fixed on the other broken form in the room. His little brother was hurt. For a fleeting moment, he yearned to rush to Inigo's side, but he couldn't move. He could only flicker his gaze towards their elder brother Sato, standing impassively by the door. Luccione's probe into Sato's desires found only a hollow devotion to duty. His eyes turned to the figure above Inigo. Inside their father's heart, he found only dread. How pathetic. All of them. He hated this family, this whole clan.
Returning his attention to Inigo, Luccione felt the familiar pull of Avarice, urging him to dive into his young brother's psyche, to twist and reshape Inigo's desires until agony became pleasure, until subservience felt like freedom.
It would be so easy.
But no, he couldn't. Not to his little brother. There was love for Kaz in the boy's eyes. An authentic devotion that he would never be able to replicate again. Inigo was the only true thing that belonged to Luccione. His only true toy.
Luccione thought back to his own transformation. Countless nights spent rewriting his own neural pathways, manipulating his own brain chemistry until Kaz's weakness was purged, replaced by Luccione's strength. Both agony and ecstasy mixed as he pushed his quirk to its limits, experiencing the highest highs and the lowest lows until he was simply numb. "Luccione" had emerged from that crucible, strong and unassailable.
'This is the only way,' He thought, watching Inigo crawl forward. Yet as Inigo's pained eyes met his, Luccione felt something within him crack. A voice, so faint he almost missed it, whispered: 'But at what cost?'
Luccione silenced it as fast as it came out. One day, you'll understand, baby brother.
He allowed himself one last moment of fraternal affection.
This pain will make you strong. And when you're ready, we'll watch this wretched world burn together.
Kōkishin Yuuki - better known as Shoggoth - awoke to the sound of Luccione's labored breathing. Yuuki's body was a morphing canvas of flesh, eyes blinked open and closed across her surface. She stretched, feeling the pleasant ache of a night well spent. Beside her, Luccione's naked form was taut with tension, sweat glistening on his sculpted chest. As she observed her bedmate's distress. His golden eyes snapped open and he gasped suddenly.
"You okay there, big guy?" Yuuki taunted. A tendril extended from her form, plucking a cigarette from the nightstand and bringing it to her mouth. Another tendril produced a lighter, igniting the tip. Smoke curled lazily from a dozen orifices as she took a deep drag. She wasn't too concerned about him, but there'd be questions if she accidentally killed another one.
Luccione sat up groggily. "The same damn nightmare... Echoes of a past life."
"Same dream as before? Poor little baby, want me to kiss it better?" Shoggoth's voice was a mocking whisper.
Luccione's hand shot out, gripping what passed for Shoggoth's throat. "Watch your tongue, or I'll rip it out. All dozen of them." Amused laughter bubbled out of Yuuki. Her flesh simply flowed around his fingers, reforming.
"You promise?," she teased, all her eyes blinking in synchronized mirth.
Luccione released her, running a hand through his silver hair in frustration. "If you must know, it's just stress," He muttered. "I have a meeting with ole' king Midas today."
"Hmm. About what?" A plum of smoke escaped from Shoggoth's lips as she leaned back.
"A job in Kyoto. Nothing that concerns you."
"Liar," she accused. A tendril reached out, tracing the contours of his naked chest. "I can taste the schemes brewing in that twisted mind of yours. Share with the class, won't you?"
"I'd let you know," Luccione replied, his golden eyes fixed on her. "But you'll have to join us first. Officially. The Night Parade could use someone of your... talents."
Yuuki paused, her form momentarily stilling. Then she erupted in laughter, her body splitting into a thousand writhing tentacles. "Oh, Lucci," she cackled, "you know that's not my style. I'm a free agent. I take care of myself."
As she prepared to leave, Yuuki's form flowed off the bed like liquid flesh. Her legs fused and split repeatedly, sometimes human, sometimes tentacles. Arms sprouted and retracted along her torso, grasping her belongings from across the floor. When the pieces of her rejoined, a fully clothed Yuuki appeared by the door.
"It's been fun," she called over her shoulder.
Luccione stared out from the bed, not at Yuuki but his own reflection in the mirror. Kami, he looked good today. With great effort he tore his attention away from his reflection long enough to glance at her turning the doorknob.
"Wait. I do have a role for you if you'd like to join the mission. It's a concert. Could be fun?"
"Sorry, doll. You know the rules. I don't talk business directly. Talk to my fixer if you want to hire me. You have Ichiro-ki's number," And with a wave she slipped through the door.
Luccione shrugged as she left, he lifted the covers of the bed to find Bogey resting by his feet. "You can come out now, she's gone."
Bogey peeked out restlessly, his many hands shook in frustration. "That damn woman is terrifying... Why the hell did you invite me?"
Luccione smiled and patted the myriapod mutant, "And here I thought you were open to new experiences."
II. A Morning Stroll
Luccione glided confidently down the lavish halls of the Night Parade's base in Tobita Shinchi. Sitting just behind a large hostess club, Luccione had taken a liking to the Muromachi period manor. Behind him, a few paces away, lumbered Mauler - once Bruno Garcia, the hulking wrestler looked more machine than man now. A metallic luchador's mask covered half of his face, his eyes were bright red, and steel armoring covered most of his body. Luccione's latest toy had escaped one too many times. So Luccione had him fixed, courtesy of the Night Parade's latest breakthroughs from their partners in Beijing. Mauler was now tougher, stronger, and faster than before, but Bruno was fully buried underneath all his enhancements. He certainly lacked the creative flarings and gusto that Luccione admired from the wrestler. He sighed, new toys seldom outlive their novelties, perhaps he'll get a bigger bodyguard soon.
As they walked, Luccione's mind raced with plans within plans, joining the Night Parade was but a means to an end after all. He still had a debt to settle with Sato and the Daiichi. He still had to reclaim Inigo. As they approached an open zen garden, the sounds of grunting and bickering reached his ears. Luccione paused to watch from an open doorway.
Tatarimokke in his 80's style workout gear, stood before a group of their members as a fitness instructor. "Focus, you fashion disasters!" Tatarimokke hooted, demonstrating a warrior pose. "A limber body leads to a limber mind! Perhaps if you put as much effort into how you look as you do your schemes, we'd all be better off."
Greenfinger struggled to touch his toes. "This is absurd," the hulking drug lord grunted, giving up on the stretch. "I should be overseeing the new shipment from Thailand, not... oof... bending like a pretzel."
Pathetic, Luccione thought. Everyone knows that to properly stretch the hamstrings, one should hinge at the hips and maintain a neutral spine, not round the back excessively. And Greenfinger isn't doing that.
"Mrrrr.. If you didn't let that speedster brat break up the first shipment, we wouldn't be getting punished right now," Tomi growled, attempting to balance on one panther leg, his tail lashing wildly.
"Bah!" Greenfinger retorted. "At least I have territory left, what happened to your operations?"
Tomi hissed. "Challenger and that bone-wielding runt will pay. For now.. it's better to retreat than lose everything. Kraftwerk Agency's in the war path. How was I supposed to know that was Impakt's little intern?"
"I do sympathize," Tatarimokke called out, ruffling his feathers as he took a rested stance. "I'm still preening my feathers over what Popsy and her insufferable team has done to me in Osaka... My poor beautiful, avant-garde creations."
"Sounds like you're all losing your touch," Maw snickered, the lanky blonde teenager effortlessly performed a sun warrior routine. "Maybe if you oldtimers actually put up a fight instead of running scared. Just give me a chance and I'll crush those Shiketsu nobodies." Rocks and various objects orbitted around him before exploding. The Night Parade's youngest member was as hotblooded as usual.
"Silence, you cretin!" Tomi snapped, Nekoko appeared from the shadows. "You have no idea of the delicate balance we maintain. One wrong move and-"
"And what?" Maw's eyes gleamed dangerously. "We might actually accomplish something? Bring some real chaos to this city?"
Bogey snickered with his mass of limbs, he was the only one attempting to follow Tatarimokke's aerobics routine. "Heheheh, Chaos... good... more... fun! I miss the good ole' days."
"Hah, there's plenty of chaos. But you can't throw a rock without hitting a new hero or villain in Kyoto," Greenfinger grunted, rising to his full height, happy that he was taller than everyone here. "But back in my day there was an order to things, and you paid respect to the big dogs. Before I fled Kyoto, Rosethorn and her students tried to arrest me in my own damn restaurant! What is the charge for that? Eating a meal? Enjoying a succulent japanese meal?!"
Nekoko cackled.
"The charge is that you're an idiot," Maw sneered.
"Don't test me, boy! I'll shove a tree up your-"
"Gentlemen.." Luccione interrupted before things could get crass, he glided towards them. All eyes turned to the silver haired scion. "Let's not bicker now. We're all a little pent up, but let's save that energy for what really matters. Let me talk to the boss. I have an operation I think everyone will enjoy," He soothed their minds with his quirk.
"A profitable one I hope," Recino chimed in, barely participating in the physical exertions in her business suit. Night Parade's pseudo secretary and business executive handled the empire's finances. She was also equipped with their most advanced gadgets. She looked up from her tablet. "Our stocks are still in an all time high, but we saw a dip this quarter. I'm worried what our investors would think."
"Of course," Luccione replied promptly. "Until then, we should all remember that we need to focus less on individual grievances and more on the bigger picture. We're all here to support the boss and his vision."
"Aye.." Greenfinger calmed down. Tomi and Maw nodded.
"Thank you," Luccione replied promptly, "Oh and Haruka-sama, I do hope you get a chance to kill that clown soon. She's filled my brother's empty head with enough nonsense. Let me know if you need help." With a sincere smile, and before anyone can ask questions about his plans, Luccione made his way past the gardens.
As Luccione continued his journey through the labyrinthine base, the sounds of an argument drew his attention. Rounding a corner, he came upon Ginji Gō, better known as Desperado, locked in a heated exchange with Karma. A small crowd of low-level thugs had gathered to watch, their eyes darting nervously between the two formidable villains.
Desperado was an imposing figure in his blackened full-body steel armor, crimson eyes glowing ominously. The submachine guns at his hips gleamed in the low light. Across from him, Karma's lithe form was encased in tight leather, her reptilian features twisted in both amusement and annoyance.
"You think this is a game?" Desperado snarled, his mechanically enhanced voice echoing off the walls. "My brother is dead because of those Wild Hunt bastards, and you're cozying up to them like it's nothing!"
Karma's forked tongue flicked out, tasting the tension in the air. "Oh, calm down, tin man. It's called diplomacy. Something you might want to consider instead of charging in guns blazing."
"Diplomacy?" Desperado took a menacing step forward. "Is that what you call betrayal these days? You double agent!"
Desperado's younger brother, a promising Shiketsu student, had fallen victim to one of Wild Hunt's attacks. It had taken considerable effort from both Luccione and Recino to prevent the enraged mercenary from launching a full-scale assault on them. Luccione felt for the poor man, he can only imagine what it would be like if it was Inigo who died instead. Of course, it took more than that to kill a Daiichi, even if his little brother did die... they would just take him back to the cave.
"The boss seems to appreciate my... flexibility," Karma purred, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Information is valuable, after all. Or would you prefer we stumble around in the dark while competition grow stronger?"
Desperado's armored hand twitched towards his weapon. "What I'd prefer is loyalty. Something you seem to have forgotten."
Sensing the situation was about to escalate, Luccione stepped forward, his voice smooth as silk. "Now, now, my friends. Surely we can discuss this like civilized individuals?"
Both villains turned to face him. "Stay out of this, Lucci," Desperado growled. "This doesn't concern you."
Luccione raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes gleaming. "On the contrary. Anything that threatens the stability of our organization concerns me greatly. Perhaps we should take this conversation somewhere more... private? We should discuss this with Midas." The threat was evident.
For a moment, it seemed Desperado would challenge Luccione. Then, with a sound that might have been a snarl or a sigh, he turned and stomped away, the crowd of onlookers parting hastily before him.
Karma's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Well, that was entertaining. Thanks for the back-up, Lucci. Though I had it under control."
"Did you now?" Luccione mused, watching as she began to fade from view, her chameleon-like abilities kicking in.
"Do be careful, my dear. Even the most skilled tightrope walker can lose their balance."
With a soft chuckle, Karma vanished completely, leaving Luccione alone in the hallway. He dismissed the lingering thugs with a wave of his hand.
Not five minutes later, Luccione found himself pushing the door to Midas' throne room, revealing a space that seemed to glow from the artifacts and priceless treasures decorating the room. Ornate vases, lavish paintings, and jewelry of every make littered pedestals and antique tables. Every surface of the room gleamed golden, as if to emphasize the mastermind's power and ego. At the center of it all sat Midas himself, lounging on a plush red throne.
Luccione approached, Mauler behind him. Luccione carried a a golden box - Owari's "gift" to the Night Parade. The young upstart's attempt at diplomacy amused Luccione. Such a crude gesture, but one that could be turned to his advantage. The boy had made it seem like he was buying a favor from Midas. It was so very polite that it reminded Luccione of a certain old man that used to work for his family. Surely Midas knows this too.
"Ah, Lucci-darling!" Midas called out, his voice carrying the easy confidence of a man who believed himself untouchable. "Come to liven up my dreary morning?" Lifting a few fingers he shoo'd the servants in the room away.
Luccione bowed slightly, the picture of deference. "I bring news... and a gift."
As he presented the box, Luccione's mind raced ahead, plotting out the conversation like a chess game. Each word, each gesture, had been rehearsed a thousand times in his head. And beneath it all, the subtle influence of his quirk - not enough to dominate Midas entirely, but to nudge him, to plant seeds of ideas that would bloom into Luccione's desired outcome. The Night Parade's master was too willfull to ensnare with Avarice, but he had greed and appetite aplenty, buttons and strings that could be pushed and tugged. It wouldn't do to turn him into a mindless puppet, Luccione needed his mind and experience. He needed that edge, that had brought hundreds of pro heroes to their doom.
Midas opened the box, his eyebrows rising above his purple-tinted glasses. "Well, well. Our young friend certainly has a flair for the dramatic. Majestic's eye and arm, if I'm not mistaken. Bold move."
"Indeed," Luccione agreed smoothly. "Sandatsu seems eager to prove himself. Perhaps too eager."
Midas chuckled, closing the box and tossing it away. "Youth and its impulsiveness."
Luccione stepped towards the throne and whispered, "Still, we shouldn't underestimate him. Wild Hunt is becoming a useful enterprise. Word is he's even started to consult The Five."
Midas' eyes narrowed. "It's such a shame you weren't able to recruit him, Lucci. I still have a bone to pick with Desolator over my dead informant, and Ao Kizawa can't slip through our fingers," He paused to take a sip from a bejeweled goblet.
"Already covered. We have her secured," Luccione took the chance to brag. "We've found a new plant in her garden. Satori was always too much of a liability anyway. With Jun and his indiscretions out of the way. Mrs. Kizawa found a new woman in her life."
"Oooh, how very modern, but I did enjoy our little rendezvous. I shall meet with this new informant shortly. Please make sure Desolator doesn't kill her too. Why must Samuel be such a thorn in my side?"
Now. Now was the moment. Luccione leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Speaking of thorns... I have a proposal that might interest you."
"Oh?" Midas leaned forward, intrigued despite himself. "Do tell, my silver-tongued friend."
"We've been playing defense for too long," Luccione began, each word carefully chosen. "Reacting to moves, scrambling to protect our interests. But what if we could change the game entirely?"
He paused, letting the tension build. Midas gestured impatiently for him to continue.
"Imagine," Luccione said, his golden eyes gleaming, "A world where the next generation of heroes... becomes the next generation of villains under our control." Midas' eyebrows shot up.
"While everyone and their mothers are focused solely on Kyoto and Shiketsu, a second-rate school, we strike out to the East, sneak past Kanto's heroes, and help ourselves to the best hero school in all of Japan," Luccione continued, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Specifically, a certain class of seniors." Mauler stepped forward to present a roster of names and photographs of a class 3-B. "I've vetted them myself. They're scared, vulnerable, and mostly abandoned - by the hero commission that's supposed to hold their hand."
For a moment, silence reigned in the throne room. Luccione could almost see the gears turning in Midas' mind. When the villain king finally spoke, his voice was low.
"It's ambitious, Lucci. Risky. I thought you had a bone to pick with Shiketsu?"
Luccione nodded solemnly. "No no. I haven't forgotten about them. Kyoto will always be our hunting grounds. But with Wild Hunt becoming such a distraction, we can bring UA down. And when the East falls.. Shiketsu will be alone."
A slow smile spread across Midas' face, his teeth glinting gold in the low light. "Very well, my friend. You have my attention. Let's hear the details of this audacious plan of yours."
Luccione bowed deeply, hiding the triumphant gleam in his eyes. "I live to serve, my king." As he straightened, Luccione allowed himself a moment of dark satisfaction. The pieces were in place. This is when the fun begins.
III. A Gold Crush
Kyoto's Nakagyo Ward was full of people and excitement. A sea of bodies moved towards the outdoor concert hall where Heartbeat was set to perform her hit single "Neon Hearts". Luccione observed the chaos as he made for the backstage area. He could sense his dragon, Avarice, in it's tiniest form flying through the crowd. Nearby, the grand opening of Sakura Mart nearby only added to the frenzy.
Luccione descended into the crowd, his quirk rippling outward. Security guards' eyes glazed over as he approached, their minds bending to his will without resistance. He strode past them, unchallenged, making his way towards the dressing rooms. The backstage area hummed with pre-show energy. Stagehands rushed about, carrying equipment and muttering into headsets. He paused just outside Madoka Mikan's dressing room, listening to the melodic sound of her voice as she ran through vocal exercises. With a subtle twist of the doorknob, he entered.
Madoka whirled to face him, her sequined costume catching the light. Her eyes widened,in surprise.
"Huh? Who are you?" she demanded. "Where's Rico?"
Luccione's smile widened, behind him Maw and Recino entered the room too.
"He was let go. I'm your new manager."
Lilinah Inoue of Shiketsu's business course (Class 1-C), clutched her ticket, flushed with excitement as the crowd approached the concert hall entrance. The narrow streets had pushed all the fans together into a long line, as people streamed in and out of the venue. Her floral sundress fluttered in the warm evening breeze, and her dark skin and long pointy ears made her stand out. Beside her, Isabella wore a flowy bohemian-style top paired with distressed jeans, heart bangles jingling on her wrists.
She was the reason they were all here, after excitedly pushing for the concert for three months straight the shy girl had convinced three of her classmates to come. "Look at all these people!", she said through a neon colored gasmask.
"The turnout is impressive," Octy confirmed. As the line inched forward, Lilinah felt a tap on her shoulder.
Octy - wait, he wanted them to call him "Octavius" from now - leaned in. "You sure you'll be okay, Riri? It's gonna be loud."
"That's what my parents said but I can't stay in a bubble forever jeez. My homelife's depressing, and so is the school.. So why not live a little?" Riri smiled at her bestfriend's concern and tapped the updated device on her ear. "Besides, I should be fine with these."
They were the newest device her family's money could buy. Lilinah's hearing quirk made it difficult to live without earplugs, and the device filtered out noise. It allowed her to hear speech, music, and even singing without worry. Octavius relented. His spiked collar, punk rock shirt, and ripped jeans made him the odd duck in their party. Octavius had ear piercings, a nosering, and eyeliner accentuated the eye that wasn't artfully covered by his overgrown bangs. Riri suppressed a smirk. To Lilinah, he was either going through a weird emo phase or some kind of teenage mid-life crisis, due to his quirk - which made him appear like a man in his late 50's.
Their last member, Ysmir towered above them all. The handsome blonde wore a simple gray t-shirt that strained against his muscular frame. His long hair was tied back in a neat braid, a few strands escaping to frame his face. Riri felt her cheeks warm as she glanced up at him. Isabella's persuasive skills had been formidable, but it was Ysmir's decision to join that tipped the scales.
'Not that I'd admit that out loud,' Riri thought, sneaking another glance at the tall boy. 'Spending time with him is... nice. This almost feels like...'
Her blush deepened. 'A date?' The thought sent a flutter through her stomach. Octy threw her a shrewd smile. Yep. He knows. Damn him, and his black nail polish!
"Thanks for coming along with us," she said. "I know you prefer rock music."
1-C's classrep smiled back at her, he spoke with a nordic accent. "Always happy to try new things. I didn't have the heart to let Ms. Nakahata down."
Isabella bounced between them, her enthusiasm infectious. "Can you believe we're actually here? Heartbeat's first major venue concert!"
Octy trailed behind them. "I still don't understand the appeal of this... pop music."
"That's because you're practically ancient," Riri teased.
"Respect your elders, young lady," Octy retorted, but there was no heat in his words.
As they inched forward in the line, Riri's mind drifted to the recent events at the school. This outing was a welcome distraction. Many members of Class 1-C had transfered after the attacks happened. And the ones who stayed were frantically reevaluating their assessments of the hero course students. Half the class insisted this incident would be detrimental to 1-D's future careers. Riri, however, saw it differently.
'A hero class with a tragic backstory?' she mused. 'The public will eat it up when they debut. It's practically gift-wrapped for marketing.'
Her perspective had sparked heated debates filled with statistical analysis furious arguments.
They shuffled forward, presenting their tickets to the attendant. The venue swallowed them, a cavernous space already packed with bodies. The air thrummed with anticipation. Isabella's eyes sparkled as she rattled off facts. "Did you know Heartbeat got her start busking in Akihabara? She was discovered by a talent scout when she was only eleven!"
"Fascinating," Octy deadpanned.
Ysmir leaned down to whisper to Riri. "How long before she runs out of trivia?"
Riri smirked. "Bold of you to assume she ever will."
They pushed deeper into the venue. The energy was electric, fans chattering excitedly about their favorite songs and what the setlist might include.
"I hope she plays 'Neon Heart,'" Isabella sighed dreamily. "It's my favorite."
Octy raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that the one about falling in love with a robot?"
"It's a metaphor!" Isabella protested.
Riri laughed, then turned to Ysmir. "Speaking of robots, how's that project for Majestic-sensei's class going?"
Ysmir groaned. "Don't remind me. I swear he assigns the most ridiculous—"
His words were cut off as the crowd suddenly surged forward. Riri stumbled, caught off guard by the shift. She blinked, momentarily disoriented by the press of bodies around her. The air felt thicker, heavy with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and excitement. "Whoa," she muttered. "Is it supposed to be this tight?"
Isabella, still riding high on excitement, barely seemed to notice. "It's always packed at concerts! Part of the experience!"
Riri nodded, trying to shake off her unease. She focused on the pulsing beats of the pre-show music, letting it wash over her. The vibrations thrummed through her body. The earplugs were working well. Yet something felt off. There was a tense energy. At the very front she can see people closing a gate.
As the minutes ticked by, the pressure didn't ease. If anything, it intensified. Riri found herself pressed between bodies, her personal space shrinking with each passing moment. . But the heat of the crowd enveloped Riri, a stifling blanket that made it harder to breathe.
"Guys," she said, a note of worry creeping into her voice. "I think something's wrong."
Ysmir frowned, trying to create a buffer around their group. His size, usually an advantage, now worked against him as people pushed and jostled. Riri could see the strain on his face as he fought against the tide of bodies.
"We should leave," Ysmir's tone was serious.
"No - guys, c'mon! It's about to start-" Isabella's voice was uncertain.
Octy's eyes narrowed, scanning the crowd. "Look at their faces," he muttered. "Some of these people look off."
Riri followed his gaze, her enhanced hearing picking up fragments of confused conversations amidst the general chatter. Amidst the sea of excited fans, she noticed vacant stares and sluggish movements. It was as if some invisible force was pulling them in conflicting directions. The crowd shifted again, more violently this time. Riri's stomach lurched as she was jostled, her footing uncertain on the sticky floor. Panicked voices rose above the general din.
A man and a woman were being pushed against her. Riri's breath came in short gasps as the pressure increased. She could feel her heart pounding, the rhythm echoing in her ears despite the earplugs. The once-exciting energy of the crowd had morphed into something oppressive, a living entity with a will of its own.
"Follow me, this way! Hold hands and stay together!" Ysmir yelled, his voice tight with concern as he started leading them backwards. Riri could see the muscles in his neck straining as he tried to push back against the surge. But there was nowhere to go. They were trapped in the middle of the surging mass, exit routes blocked by an impenetrable wall of bodies. Riri's eyes darted frantically, searching for any sign of security or staff, but all she could see was a sea of unfamiliar faces, many contorted in confusion or fear.
Isabella's excitement had given way to terror. "What's happening?" she whimpered, her earlier enthusiasm evaporated like morning dew.
A man stumbled nearby, pushed by the relentless crowd. He collided with Riri, the impact grazed her ear.
BZZZZT
Her heart stopped. Static crackled in her right ear. Panic clawed at her throat.. If she lost her earbud here.
BZZZT
The crowd shifted suddenly. A collective gasp rippled through the mass. Bodies pressed closer. Riri felt her chest tighten. The air grew oppressively thick.
Isabella's scream pierced the air. "I can't breathe!"
All at once, panic spread like wildfire. People pushed. Shoved. Clawed for space. Riri stumbled, barely keeping her footing. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears.
To her left, a young woman collapsed. Hands reached to help, but there was no room. The fallen fan disappeared beneath the surge of bodies. Riri's stomach churned.
Across the venue, a man climbed desperately onto his friend's shoulders. Security guards fought against the tide, their faces strained in hopelessness.
A child wailed nearby, voice high and terrified. Parents called out frantically, separated by the crush. Riri saw tears streaming down faces. Heard gasps for air. Felt the trembling of bodies pressed against her.
The crowd swayed violently. Like a stormy sea. Riri lost sight of Ysmir. Then Octy vanished. Isabella's hand slipped from hers.
"No... Stop..." She balled herself up, and tried to become as small as possible. Any moment now. This'll be over, and they can enjoy the concert, right?
BZZZZT
People were screaming for help. For space. For mercy. The sound was deafening, even through Riri's earplugs. She saw elbows jab ribs. Feet trample fallen belongings. Faces contort in pain and terror. The pressure increased relentlessly. Riri couldn't move her arms. Could barely expand her lungs. Spots danced in her vision. The world narrowed to a pinpoint of survival. This wasn't a concert anymore. It was a battle. A fight for life itself. And Riri realized, with horrifying clarity, that not everyone would make it out.
Riri reached for her phone, fingers trembling as she tried to type a message. The screen blurred before her eyes, whether from tears or the constant motion, she couldn't tell.
Where were the police?
Heroes?
Anyone?
Madoka watched the large television screen in her dressing room. The scene unfolding before her was one of pure chaos and terror. Her fans, the people who had supported her dreams, were now trapped in a nightmarish crush.
Luccione's voice cut through her horror. "You see what will happen if you don't play along, Madoka." He gestured towards the screen, his smile widening. "Everything you've worked for... Gone."
Madoka's breath caught in her throat. She watched as security guards struggled helplessly against the tide of bodies. Faces contorted in pain and fear flashed across the screen. Her stomach churned.
"So be a good performer and help us out, won't you?" Luccione's words hung in the air, heavy with implied threat.
The door creaked open. Two more figures entered the already crowded dressing room. Madoka's eyes darted between them, seeking any sign of hope or rescue. She found none.
A lanky blonde teenager with long limbs sauntered in first. His grin was unnaturally wide as he waved at her. "Big fan," he said in a monotone. Behind him walked a tall woman with sharp, angular features. She had blue feathers in her hair. Her eyes were cold and focused as she spoke rapidly into a communication device. "Recino here. Southeast quadrant, increase pressure. Northwest, hold position." She was orchestrating the chaos outside like a conductor leading a twisted symphony. Madoka felt the weight of helplessness crushing down on her. Her gaze returned to the screen, watching her beloved fans suffer. Tears welled in her eyes, she closed them tightly, shoulders slumping in defeat. When she opened them again, they met Luccione's golden stare. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she nodded.
Luccione's smile grew impossibly wide. "Excellent choice, my dear. The show must go on, after all. Let's have some fun."