Chapter Text
BREAKING NEWS
Golden Boy Changes Sides
After weeks without an appearance by the beloved Kevin Day - aka Raven 2 - sightings have been reported in Palmetto where renowned villain group the Foxes are believed to reside.
Raven 2 was part of the Hero Agency known as the Ravens and attended the prestigious Edgar Allan Academy where he was in his final year. He was known to be close to the Raven King, Riko Moriyama. The King is said to be devastated but is unable to provide further comments at this time.
Since he has a powerful quirk, people are asked to remain vigilant and not to engage.
If seen, please contact the Raven Agency.
Name: Kevin Day
aka Raven 2
Birthday: 12th of May
Height: 185 cm
Favourite thing: (from a previous interview) Saving people, doing the job.
Quirk: Power Aim
Neil knew he should have stayed out of it. But, something inside him, something that had always been there despite how much his mother tried to beat it out of him, had always wanted to help. Sometimes, he wondered if it was because he wanted to correct a debt that was due because of his father. Maybe it was because of all the heroes on TV and the hope they would come to rescue him. Whatever the reason, Neil hoped he wouldn’t come to regret what he was doing.
And that was using his quirk.
It had all started when he had arrived at the truck stop. The car he had been using had run out of gas before he could reach somewhere to fill up - it was also stolen, so he’d abandoned it. Having walked all the way to the truck stop, he’d stocked up on some water, granola bars and fruit before he made sure to get a notebook and pen for his favourite hitchhiking trick. He bought it all and got a cup for some coffee; the machine was in the back of the shop, so he had to wander back there to fill it.
There was barely anything in his cup when the door was thrown open. Blinking, he turned to look, flinched and ducked down behind the shelves. A man wearing a cap low over his eyes and a scarf over the lower half of his face had entered. In one hand, he had a gun. The other hand seemed to be made of tentacles and the scream from the front of the shop suggested that the only other customer had been grabbed.
“Nobody move!” yelled the assailant, his voice muffled. “If you do what we say, nobody needs to get hurt.”
Rolling his eyes, Neil squinted at the coffee machine. The surface of it was slightly reflective and he squinted at it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t good enough to be a mirror so that Neil could work out what was going on. All he could see were blurry colours moving to and fro. Neil held his breath as he waited, wondering if he would make it out of the place without being spotted. As long as no-one could place him at the scene, as long as no-one could see the family resemblance, he would be fine. He tugged at his hair, though he knew it was dyed. Everything would be fine, he decided, as long as he kept quiet and out of sight.
A scream made him grip the strap of his duffel bag tightly. Memories assaulted him and he had to take a deep breath to keep himself in the moment. Cautiously, Neil shifted just enough to be able to see around the shelf. At the other end of the shop, the cashier had hunched over and was trembling, her hands digging into the register as fast as possible. Notes and coins were being thrust into a bag that a short man held as he sat on the counter, grinning at the woman who was still being held aloft. She was wriggling around in a way that made Neil think that her quirk was something to do with being able to slip easily out of people’s grasp. However, her quirk was either too weak or the thief’s was too strong. Every single time she moved, Neil could see the tentacles slide tighter around her.
“Fuck!” the man suddenly yelped as the woman slipped downwards abruptly. She was halted by his tentacles. Some of them wrapped around her neck. “Shut up and stop squirming!” he snapped.
“Watch it,” said his companion in a deep, croaky voice. It sounded like something from a nightmare and Neil wondered if his quirk meant that he seemed more demonic than he actually was. “You’ll end up killing her,” the guy added when his friend gave him an annoyed look.
“Maybe I want to kill her,” taunted the tentacled man. “Maybe it would make this easier.”
“Please don’t!” exclaimed the cashier, his head jerking up with wide eyes.
“Aw, why not? You like her? Maybe we could do a murder-suicide.” And the tentacled man lifted the gun higher, pointing it straight at the cashier’s head. The cashier squeaked and ducked down to the rough laughter of the man.
“Quit it, man,” growled his companion. “We’ve got the money, let’s go!”
“Nah.” A couple of the man’s tentacles suddenly unlooped from around the woman, though she still couldn’t get free. They slipped into his pocket and pulled something out. “I’m gonna test out one of these.”
“Woah!” his friend exclaimed, hopping off the counter with the bag full of money. “Where’d you get that? I didn’t agree to this so-”
“Shut up!” snapped the first man - and he threw whatever he was holding into this mouth. He swallowed, loudly, and with a certain exaggeration. Then he wrapped his tentacles around the woman and squeezed.
Neil winced. He had heard that there were drugs being passed around, new and dangerous. They apparently amped up people’s quirks for a few hours. Some people even said that there were people who no longer had quirks because the early batches had the side effect of deactivating them completely. It had been a horror story that had been whispered about until the stories were swept aside by the newer, better drugs. Now there were minor villains popping up all over the world only to be taken out by the heroes. If that was what he had, then he was going to break all of the bones in that woman’s body. The gun in his other hand was also a problem; if he tensed up while holding it, the cashier could be injured, too. And his friend didn’t seem to want to play any further part in this, but if that man became drunk on power…
The thought made Neil shudder. He knew all too well what happened when people became too powerful for their own good. His body had the scars to prove it. So, against his better judgement - and his mother shouting, shouting, shouting in his ear - Neil slowly lowered his duffel to the floor. Once he’d let go of the strap, he activated his quirk.
At one point, Neil had wished that he had had an invisibility quirk, or the sort of quirk that meant that he would be able to redirect people’s attention. Instead, he had gotten a speed quirk. He called it Lightning Strike and it could be dangerous for those swept up in his wake. For this situation, he only used 40% of his power, and hoped it wouldn’t draw unnecessary attention.
He leapt to his feet. Skirted the shelves. Raced down the row. Grabbed the gun from the guy’s hand and likely broke some fingers. Dismantled the gun as much as he could and threw the parts along the aisle he had come from. Grabbed the bag of money from the little guy, probably dislocating his shoulder, and threw it over the counter, aiming to the side of the cashier so he wouldn’t be bowled over by it. Pulled on each of the tentacles. Tugged the woman out of the way, hoping she wouldn’t be too annoyed at the bruises she would have from his hands. Shoved the tentacle guy into some shelves, hard enough for him to be knocked out. Made sure no-one else was in the shop or going to be hurt by the things and people who he had moved. Turned back down the aisle he had come from. Ducked down behind the shelving and deactivated his quirk.
His ears popped from the force of his previous speed and they began to ring. Still, the crashing and clattering and screaming from the front of the shop was audible. He peered around his hiding place to make sure everything seemed okay. The only person still standing was the cashier who stared in shock at the scene. Finally, the guy seemed to come to his senses and jabbed a button under the counter. There was a skittering sound and the short assailant scrambled to his feet, cursing under his breath as he clutched his limp arm. Without a backwards glance, he rushed out of the shop, seeming to grow as he moved. Then there was silence as the cashier hugged himself, still staring and clearly needing a break.
Neil was still trapped. Inwardly, he cursed at himself for not even thinking about leaving after his little stunt. And, if he didn’t leave now, heroes would turn up and he’d be arrested for being a vigilante, for being a hero without a licence. He grimaced and weighed his options. If he left now, only the cashier would see him and he could change his appearance easily enough…
After he had taken a few calming breaths, Neil stood and made his way down the aisle as calmly as he could. His entire body was tense with the need to run. If he did that, though, someone would see. And he couldn’t use his quirk without taking off the doors or smashing a window.
It was becoming difficult to breathe.
With his heart in his throat, Neil reached the front of the shop and gingerly stepped over all the fallen products: chocolate bars; jerky; flowers; magazines. He spared a glance for the woman who had been captured and was relieved to see she was breathing. The tentacled man was sprawled where he had landed among the magazines, the tentacles stretched out across the floor. They looked less threatening when they were so limp.
“Oh!” said the cashier, apparently surprised that Neil was still in the shop. “You…” He paused and looked over the wreckage. Neil silently begged him not to put two and two together.
But Neil had broken a rule - one of his mother’s rules - and that came with consequences.
“You…” the assistant said again, realisation clearly dawning.
“No,” said Neil, hurriedly. He didn’t look the man in the eye, staring at the name tag that said his name was Brian. “I-I just hid. I… have to go.”
Brian shook his head. “But you just- You saved us.”
“No,” Neil insisted, willing Brian to leave it alone.
“No-one else could have,” Brian argued. “You should stay! I bet the heroes would want to talk to you. I mean, I know you’re not allowed to be a vigilante, but maybe-”
“I didn’t do anything,” Neil said firmly, glancing up at Brian’s face. He looked surprised and confused, which just proved how stupid he was. Or maybe it was just that he wasn’t a hero fan like Neil was. Grimacing, Neil turned away from him. “I’m leaving.”
“But I’ve already hit the button to summon the heroes! You should just-”
However, Neil didn’t need to hear any more. He rushed to the door, going as fast as he could without his quirk. The door swung open easily as he burst out of it. In the distance, sirens were getting closer. Across the parking lot, rows of trucks were silent, dormant; their drivers would have a rude awakening when the authorities arrived. Clouds obscured the sky above and Neil hurriedly made his way along the building. There was no way to know if there were any flying heroes above him already, but he had to get away. He was going to have to use his quirk, because there was no way he could get far enough away on foot before the cops caught up to him.
Once he’d flung himself around the corner, he sorted through all of the States in his mind. There were only a few he had never been to, but Hawaii and Alaska were out of the question while using his quirk. He would be seen. Instead, he settled on South Carolina which was as close to Baltimore as he dared. With a glance at the setting sun, he spun himself to the right direction, swung his duffel around to hug it, activated his quirk to 70% and ran.
Neil’s quirk worked in a way that made his heart pump far more blood to the muscles of his choosing. It worked better in his legs than anywhere else, which is why he used it for running more than anything else. There were a lot of disadvantages to this and he had learnt, over the years, how to remedy them. The only thing he couldn’t fix without the proper materials was the way that clothes and other synthetic materials couldn’t survive his speedy journeys.
Which was why, when he reached Palmetto instead of Columbia as he had been aiming for, he had to stop. His t-shirt and jeans were hanging off him in strips. Even his boxers had new holes in them. What was the real problem, however, was the fact that his shoes were gone, burnt away, and he only had two pairs. So, with great reluctance, Neil stopped and ducked into an alley beside a nondescript diner at the edge of town. The remains of his duffel fell apart but, thankfully, the spare one had survived with only a little fraying. He shook it out and transferred his binder; sealed as it was inside several plastic bags, it had also survived, though he had to throw away the outermost protective layer. Once that was done, he pulled on an entire outfit and dropped everything that had been ruined into a dumpster before he picked up some disintegrating cardboard boxes and dropped them on top. Hopefully, no-one would notice the ruined items when they next took out the trash.
Once he had gotten himself sorted out, Neil left the alley and walked through the town as night fell. As he walked, eyes open for a suitable place to sleep in, Neil took stock of the situation. For one, he had one less outfit and one less pair of shoes. He needed another replacement pair for whenever he ruined the ones he now wore. Not only that, but he and his quirk had been seen. If the sales assistant described him to the police or the heroes, he would be found. So he would have to find some hair dye and some new contacts. Perhaps black hair with purple eyes - purple might make people assume he had some sort of appearance quirk rather than a speed one. After he had all that sorted out…
Well, Neil didn’t know what he was going to do. After all, he had no set destination, no-one to watch his back, no goal to strive towards. It was a miracle he still hadn’t been found after his mother’s death. He bit his lip and shook the memory of it from his mind. There was no time to wallow; he had things to do.
Since there was no longer any immediate urgency, Neil decided to run through the streets until he came across a store that would sell the dye. The contacts would be a little harder to find and he’d have to start on that search tomorrow. When he eventually found one, he bought himself the dye and the things he had left behind at the truck stop in Arizona. He sighed as he exited the store and hoped that his abandoned shopping wouldn’t come back to haunt him.
No sooner had he thought that than two heroes stepped into his path as he cut through the park. No… Neil squinted at their costumes in the gloom and frowned. He knew heroes and he had a list in his binder of all of the ones in America. These costumes were not as garish nor as colourful as most heroes’.
The one on the left wore black armour that had wedges of red under their arms and on their shins. Their mask covered their nose and mouth, but left their cheeks free so that the tiny number 2 was visible under their left eye. Black hair tumbled around their face. In their right hand was a gun that looked like it was from a sci-fi movie. The weapon stood out since it had been painted white and orange. Despite it clashing, Neil could tell it was dangerous.
To the right, a shorter person stood. Their armour looked as though it was thicker than the other’s and all of the joints had pointed parts. Neil couldn’t see their face since their mask completely covered it. Again, it was pointed with slits for the eyes and mouth, presumably so they could see and breathe. There was no bit for the nose. With that and the horns that pointed straight up, the person looked more monstrous than anything like a hero.
Neil’s heart stopped. These were no heroes. They were villains. Why they had stopped him, he had no idea, but if they knew who he was and decided to turn him over to his father… He took a step back and both of the villains shifted, tensing as if for a fight.
“What do you want?” Neil asked, making sure to make his voice tremble. If he sounded scared, maybe they would dismiss him as a civilian and unimportant.
“We just want to talk,” said the taller one, their voice muffled. They stepped forward, hand outstretched, as if they wanted to stop Neil from leaving. As they did, they moved into the light of a streetlamp, and Neil realised that the hair he had noticed before was not hair at all. It was a bundle of long, sleek feathers.
And, with that, Neil knew exactly who he was talking to. The taller one was Raven 2, aka Kevin Day, the newest and most famous villain in America. It had been reported that, just as he was never seen without the Raven King when he had been a hero, he was now never seen without the Monster . From what Neil had read, the Monster was incredibly dangerous. He could break bones with a flick of his wrist and cause other pain with a thought. Not much else was known about him, apart from the fact that he was unpredictable. Neil swallowed and tried not to panic.
“What… What about?” he asked, forcing his voice to lilt in confusion.
Kevin Day turned his head to look at the Monster. But the Monster didn’t react, didn’t move . It was unnatural and it was unnerving. Neil returned his attention to Kevin when he looked back at him. “There was an incident earlier today.”
Neil’s heart began to thump. They couldn’t- Could they? They weren’t talking about what he’d done barely a few hours ago? How could they know about it? And why would they be interested in it? A sudden thought made him tense as he tried his hardest not to react. Did they know who he was just from whatever they’d heard. “I…” He took a step back, making it obvious that their costumes and who they were made him nervous. Maybe they would assume that he thought that they were about to do something villainous. “What has that got to do with me?”
“You saved two people there.”
For an instant, the world froze. Neil was sure that his entire body had ceased functioning. Then he took another step back and managed to drag in a heavy breath. “What-? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
That was when the Monster finally moved, raising his hand. “Do not lie,” he said, his voice deep and crackly - and bone-chilling.
Shaking his head, Neil took another step back. “I-I’m not,” he insisted. He didn’t need to act; the wavering in his voice and resolve was very real.
“You are.”
“We have CCTV footage,” Kevin explained. “And the Butterfly - our colleague - has a quirk that can track people, even from afar. We know that it was you.”
“No,” gasped Neil, backing up even more. He shook his head several times. “No, I- No.”
“We’re not here to arrest you,” Kevin said, though his voice held no comfort. “We want to recruit you.”
Neil stilled yet again. Confusion kept him rooted to the spot. “W-What?” Did villains usually recruit people to their causes in such a direct way?
“Come with us,” Kevin continued, almost as if he hadn’t heard Neil. “Your power could help us in our fight.”
With wide eyes, Neil shook his head and took another step back. “I don’t want anything to do with you,” he snapped, growing annoyed. How dare they just assume that he would want to be a villain, just because he hadn’t been able to go to a hero school! Not only that, but there was still the chance that they would sell him back to his father. Maybe this was their way of dragging him back there, by tricking him into thinking that he was being recruited. “I didn’t do anything. You can’t prove anything.”
“We have the CCTV-”
“And did I move?” Neil asked, knowing that he wouldn’t have shown up as anything more than a blur.
“Well-”
“You put down your bag,” the Monster pointed out. “But you only know how to run, don’t you, little rabbit?”
Something about the way he said that made Neil tense. “I’m leaving now. I won’t join you.”
“Wait!” exclaimed Kevin.
But Neil turned on his heel and began to hurry along the path, resisting the urge to use his quirk and get far away. He was barely a few steps from them, however, when there was a cracking sound and a sharp pain stabbed into his shin. Neil cried out as he stumbled and fell. The pain made him curl up, gripping at his broken leg.
There was no way he could run from this.
Panic overtook him. His breathing became short. He’d been caught. His father would have him. Would his father carve him up into little pieces or would he force him to work at the Butcher’s Hero Agency? Neil couldn’t do it. He was going to die. Every breath he took seemed to scrape at his lungs.
“Andrew!” he heard Kevin exclaim, just loud enough to hear over the blood pounding in his ears.
“You wanted him to come back to the Court,” the Monster - Andrew? - replied, no inflection in his tone. “Now we can take him there.”
“His leg-”
“Aaron can heal him,” the Monster said, dismissively.
Neil shuddered at the thought of being taken somewhere and dug his fingers into the ground. Trying to ignore the pain - though it stabbed and throbbed and made him feel sick - Neil began to drag himself away. If he could get to the street, maybe someone would find them. Maybe someone could take him to a hospital and a healer. Maybe he could run as soon as they’d fixed his leg. Yet, deep inside him, Neil knew he would never make it and that that course of events would make things worse for him.
Unfortunately, the Monster spotted his movements. “Oh? Still conscious. How interesting…” Neil shuddered at his words, well aware that being interesting to this Monster was not a good thing. “Well,” the Monster continued over the sound of crunching gravel. “We can’t have you getting too far.”
“Wait,” Kevin began.
Anything else he had to say was drowned out by a sudden pain in his head. It was sharp and throbbing and a pressure pressing against his brain. Neil gritted his teeth, refusing to scream as the pain increased. He was reminded of his father and his father’s men and the panic rose, shortening his breaths. A gasp escaped him and he curled up, trying to keep himself safe from the knives and his father’s quirk and the Monster that stood over him.
There was a sudden increase in the pain level before his eyes fluttered closed and he promptly passed out.