Work Text:
It is time to wake up.
Eight AM. Sunlight filters into an empty apartment, its only living occupant lying on the floor with only a thin blanket covering his massive figure. A young man with dark hair and skin marred with scars. His eyes open quickly, revealing his dark red pupils, and a small sigh leaves his lips. Today would be the last day he could rest here. The task he had been sent here to complete was done early enough and he had been given something that was rather uncommon for him.
A break.
The room was easy to clean up. Beyond his meager sleeping arrangement, the only thing he had here was a small backpack with a change of clothes. An old uniform, a red arm band, school dress slacks, and his boots. They were sadly covered in “evidence”, so the Dictator opted to leave them in his bag. He wore something less unique. A black wool trench coat over a blue sweater, fashionable jeans, and fancy shoes. Something one of his new bosses thought would make him look nice. The fabrics hugged his body tightly, making it hard to mask his figure, but the coat helped to hide his physique.
The Ultimate stood at the door, ready to leave. He turns his head over his shoulder to look back at the place. Three days he spent here resting. And for three days a large bag in the corner became more and more rancid. A trash bag shoved into its spot without a second thought. Looking at it, he could not help but smile. No one would know who did this. No one would find him. It was nice to get out of headquarters and do some field work.
Eiji Akatsuki leaves his apartment feeling rested and full of mirth.
The Dictator valued his privacy and anonymity. One day the world would know his name, but for now, if people had his Twitch handle it would only make things more difficult. His Vine account was taken down thankfully, but his Tik Tok was still active. Begrudgingly so. A mask was secured around his lower face, another effort to mask his identity. It had a cute little smile on it that clashed with his overtly intimidating figure.
The downtown offered him solace in its bustling atmosphere. The cacophony of voices, the constant traffic of people, and its beautiful ignorance of one another allowed him to travel between these people without a second thought. With less focus on them, the young man was allowed to let his mind wander. This mission offered him plenty to think about. Executions are something he specializes in. All necessary to sit on his future throne. There were so many check marks in his ledger that needed to be taken down…
Eiji began to think about an old friend.
There were five of them left. Four who were able to survive based on luck and one who got away by her own fortuna. The five killing game failures. In the history of killing games there had never been a winner and even with that title, Eiji could not help feeling this itching in his skin.
So, he began planning.
Some would be easy to catch. Others would come to him. And there were some he had to drag out himself. The first of the stubborn ones would be Boris. The two never really interacted but some indignant part of the Roboticist seemed to think he could handle Eiji. That he would be able to take him down.
The upstart would be sadly mistaken.
How to drag one out, that was the question. It was simply a matter of agitating them to the point of confrontation and irrationality. It was not enough for Eiji to simply kill the young man, no, this had to send a message to his former participants. Boris would simply be the first of them to go.
The Phoenix Foundation was the perfect way to start. For all legal purposes, Boris was a wanted criminal. Any communication with the foundation would lead to major upheavals and criminal charges for those involved, meaning, it was oblivious to Eiji’s intentions.
He was not going to destroy such a helpful community. No, no, he was going to do what all princes did when taking over foreign land. Move in, commune with the people, empower those who cannot fight him even with that power, strip those who can oppose him of their status, and conquer the people’s hearts.
Eiji was perfect for the Foundation. His entire body had a multitude of prosthetics that were either years beyond their research or in desperate need of an upgrade. He had the funding and knowledge to do so, capitalizing on their missing head, and was able to find himself greatly entangled with their mission.
Then came getting the message out. The Ultimate was a politician after all. After his survival of the killing game, his new status as a Masquerade member, and now his enormous donations to the Phoenix Foundation, he was destined to make a welcomed entrance to the scene.
Crowds of people came to see him. The tragic figure who was trying to fix those after having to break so many. His stories drew empathy, his achievements brought awe, and his words brought followers.
“They gave their lives for me, and I could not thank them all anymore.”
“I live on with their hopes and dreams.”
“They were my best friends, and…and I miss them every day.”
Then after so long, at one rally, it all came to a head. In the middle of the crowd, Eiji could see the foolish man standing. Pushing passed the deliberately useless guards, Boris would make his final stand here.
It was a dance. A flurry of attacks that Eiji could dodge blindfolded. The difficult part was looking worried and fearful enough that Boris continued his attack. Each stroke carried with it a righteous rage that was so easy to mold into a perfect reaction. Eyes brimming with tears, Eiji would speak words in a faux attempt to appease him. It was all a show. Just for the adoring people watching.
Then he would simply stop moving.
Then Eiji would feel it sink in. Lower left side, puncturing perhaps a kidney? Eiji was on his fourth set so he would not mind getting a new one. Pale hands would tear off Boris’s grasp from the blade. It would be best to leave the weapon alone. The poor Boris would only be able to watch as the crowd all screamed and yelled at him. Would he realize what was happening? Would he know that he had just signed his death wish?
Fighting was not his strong suit. Much to the confusion of others. Eiji Akatsuki is not a skilled fighter. What the Dictator was, is strong. Inhumanely powerful. An almost endless wealth of stamina, an incredible pain tolerance, and the will to do anything it takes to survive. Years of torment and suffering had molded him not into a grandiose savior but a vicious predator who refused to take any slight from anyone beneath him.
He always wanted to see how strong these arms were. They seemed to be made from a rather resilient material, but it had to be light enough to maneuver all day. It would take only so much force to tear one out, getting them both out would be a simple conquest. Without those limbs the poor boy’s balance would be ruined, it would be easy to knock him off his axis.
The crowd’s roaring screams for justice, the fear growing on the befallen cripple, the blood dripping down his side, Eiji could not help but feel vindication. This was his rightful place, he thought, as he placed his foot on Boris’s back. His screams would accompany the sound of his spine breaking. The pain on his face is met with a sweeping cry of joy from the crowd.
And why wouldn’t they? All they know is that this random man attacked Eiji. That this stranger took a knife and came at their illustrious figure for no apparent reason. And, with his back against the wall, the Dictator turned the tables on his assailant. He had been stabbed and yet here he was, winning the fight for his people. And they all wanted to see him follow through. Of course, of course they did. This was his legacy! One stained in blood, built upon the corpses of his fellow Ultimate’s, Eiji had risen above all others. This was just another step on the path to dominance.
‘Just another step’ he thought, as he brought his foot down on the poor boy’s head.
With the sounds of hundreds of people cheering for him, Eiji saved his dear friend from a life of pain.
As he returned to his own body, the Dictator would recognize the location he had ended up in. It was the district market. A comfy location that he could spend some time in as he waited. That was the purpose of him strolling around, it was obvious his own mind was so bored it took over. All intentional. The minor numbness in his body was merely coincidental.
Extraction was happening soon. After any mission was completed, he would need to be extracted. His…co-workers had told him to simply wander around the town and he would inevitably hear from them somehow. Until that fateful call to arms Eiji would remain here. Wandering among his future citizens.
What caught his eye, as he wandered the small stores and vendors, was something less glamorous. Down a narrow alley there were two men fighting. Standing at the entrance, Eiji could not help but stare for a moment.
The fight was one sided. The larger of the two men was callously calling out insults and other charming phrases while the smaller one was attempting to gain his footing again. Blood had been spilt by both, but it is obvious the one on the floor was barely keeping consciousness. The Ultimate glanced behind him to see the moving civilians ignoring this altercation. Eyes would glance over fervently, kids would be shushed if they spoke up, walking speeds would increase to a jog, and so on.
They did not need to worry themselves with this. No, their great leader will handle this mess.
“Hey! What the shit are you doing here?”
The harsh tone of the man caught his attention. Bringing his eyes forward, he could make out the fading figure of the loser of the fight. How on earth did he manage to escape? Perhaps the Dictator’s appearance had given the boy just the distraction he needed. Clever lad. Assessing his next possible victim, Eiji was not impressed.
The man was already exhausted and the only thing calling him to continue his warpath was rage. It was easy to spot. Being around him tended to breed specific emotions. Righteous anger, excessive adoration, heart wrenching betrayal, and so on. Sighing to himself, Eiji got into a fighting stance. It had been sometime since he had to fight one on one. He had been saving such an occasion after all.
A dear friend of his was supposed to quote unquote “catch these hands”.
For the life of him, Eiji could not understand Rufus. The boy had acted so offended when no one had listened to his suspicions. But those suspicions had no grounds. Rufus simply did not trust Eiji because…because of a feeling.
People always claimed to know when others are bad people. Instinct, and Eiji truly thought those people had some merit. However, it was disgustingly and dangerously closed to discrimination. That is not to claim himself to be on the same level as disenfranchised individuals’ heavens no.
Rufus simply did what all ignorant people did. Take a single idea, run with it, and never look beyond it. The Dictator had not even lied when the Bassist claimed dishonesty. It was one of the few times he was telling the truth, and yet, he was adamantly retorted.
It frustrated him. Angered him really, to see that fool attempt to garner some respect or praise in his final moments. As if his failed efforts to convince the others were something to reward.
It sickened Eiji.
Like Boris, it all required stacking the deck in a way that could not be predicted. A way that the victim could not overcome. Where Boris had failed because he was outnumbered and out planned, Eiji decided a more refined and personal method for bringing down the Bassist.
After all, the rest of the failures would be on guard now.
Whatever it took, he would bring him to a nice place. A sewer duct. One of his many homes over the years, a dried-out pipe that no longer was in service. Perhaps he would take a hostage? Send a personalized letter? Maybe slide into his DMs for this.
He could picture him now, entering through the manhole and dropping down too fast. No backup, no plan, no thought. Because to Eiji that was what Rufus did. He acted without thought and simply hoped it would work out.
A brawl. He proposed. A simple match of fists. No tricks, no traps, just two men fighting to the death. And if not, Eiji was more than happy to kill him another way. This was the boy’s only way of evening the playing field. Perhaps a dig in here or there. It is not like Eiji to speak ill of the dead, so he would simply remind their dear friend of them. How he had failed them by allowing the Dictator to go free.
With a huff he would mutter his acceptance…and immediately follow up with a right hook. All according to ‘keikaku’. It would be an awkward angle for Rufus, due to Eiji’s massive height difference to him…but surprisingly it landed. The sound of flesh hitting flesh would fill the desolate space quickly.
Hit after hit, blow after blow, the Dictator would take each strike. Endure every single attack the fool would throw at him. Bruises would begin to form, teeth would fall out, and blood would splatter on the walls. All the while his grin would remain intact as he watches his friend tire himself out.
It always came down to stamina for Eiji. It always came down to being so close but never getting that last push to victory for Rufus. Sweating, his knuckles discolored and disfigured, he was at Eiji’s mercy. The Dictator removed his jacket and cracked his knuckles.
“I was once told that we can only gain wisdom through suffering…and today, I intend to make you very wise.”
A swift kick to his left leg and a prominent crack could be heard. Falling to his knees Eiji would close their distance and simply toss the smaller Ultimate across the space. Rufus was doomed from the start. He could throw himself at Eiji as many times as he wanted, but it never could change the fact that he was incapable of outlasting the Ultimate Dictator.
Gripping the boy’s collar, Eiji brought him up close. Then he threw the first punch. The effect was almost immediate. A childlike sob left his victim as his hands tried to grab at his Leader’s throat. Eiji simply punched again. And again. And again. And again. An-
The next thing he remembers is leaving the alley. Eiji could taste sweat on his lips, and his hands were trembling. When did he place his gloves on them? Where was he now? The fraying memories of his day dreaming were obscuring his senses. What happened to the man from before…?
Sirens were heard in the distance and Eiji left.
Perhaps a nice rest. Perhaps that is all he needed to get a grip. It seems the lad had stumbled into some sort of park. There were teenagers lounging around, adults taking a walk through the foliage, children playing with one another…the most normal place for him to rest.
All those who were near him quickly dispersed.
It was not unordinary. His height and aura made him a social pariah. The pangs of exclusion were a familiar sting. He does not blame them, on the contrary, he praised those who had the foresight to steer clear of him! Children were the most fearful, they had a way of sensing these sorts of things.
“Mister?” A small tug accompanied the noise. Turning around, Eiji found himself staring down a toddler. “You’re tall…can you get our ball?” She was no older than perhaps seven years old, and the Dictator found himself impressed with her bravery. Behind her cowered a group of younglings. Without a word, he made his way over to the tree and retrieved the ball.
Holding the object in his scarred hands, he returned to the hooligans. The girl who had approached him was undeterred while some of the others were relaxing now that the man had gotten their lost object. Eiji knelt to his brave Follower’s level and handed her the ball, which she took with a large smile. A few teeth were missing.
“Thanths!”
“…You’re welcome dear Chihiro.”
She was waiting for him. She had always been waiting for him. The group she had joined was merely temporary, a place of refuge as she waited for him. People do not understand such fanaticism. They did not allow themselves to imagine the sheer protection, care, and love he had to offer. Chihiro was one of the few who could allow herself to buy into it all.
Eiji simply found her again. Acted as if it was all planned from the start. She was so desperate, so needing for him to not toss her away that she simply bought it all. The Dictator himself didn’t know how much of it was true. Had he allowed Pantera to return? Had he planned for her? Did he want them to survive just for him to pick them off one by one?
Caring for her was comforting. A joy really. He wanted to savor their time together, to set in the fact that she was with her beloved leader, simply to make the end so much more painful. Why?
Did he want them to live? Why else would he have let Pantera succeed? Her interference only hurt his credibility. It was never a personal thing, he hated to end the lives of Ultimates, he loved Ultimates after all. If he wanted her dead, why drag it out? What purpose was there? What did he truly wa-
It was a beautiful night sky.
Overseeing the sea.
The two had come to observe the stars for an old friend. The waves crashed beneath them as they reminisce over a few others. Making up constellations for the few that Eiji deemed worthy. It was…a small group.
Resting a hand on her shoulder, the young man looked down to her and told her that he expected great things. That she would be crucial to the future and that she was exactly where she needed to be. Her blue eyes filled with adoration and love; tears of gratitude began to fall. She turned back to the beautiful night sky.
“…Tell our Dear Addie I said hello.”
Within seconds, the hand that was oh so comforting, the voice that was so loving, it all turned on its head. Confusion filled her expression followed by quiet terror. She was so young…so naïve. A young lady who would never know what she meant to him.
The sun was dipping low in the sky now.
The park was far behind him. Now he was truly without reason. Simply existing until someone gave him a reason. World Domination takes time. Ultimate World Domination took decades. Years of planting his webs, stringing his enemies along, and finally pulling all the wires to create his perfect empire…there was nothing he could do to further that goal until he returned to base.
His red eyes drift among the crowd. There were less and less people traversing this time of day, notably starting to head home to enjoy the evening with their families. The families he could identify always gave him a sense of longing.
Eiji had no family. A test tube baby born to two people who would never identify themselves to him no matter what hell he endured. It did not bother him in the slightest, the idea that his birth givers could have been around him his entire life and never identified themselves, the Dictator understood duty.
When his reality failed him, he always retreated into his mind. The picture of a perfect family was a comfort to him when he was grappling with death. Parents, one male and one female. Siblings, one male and one female. Black hair like his but so unique beyond that.
“Mama, can we go home?”
The request caught his ears. Turning slowly, Eiji observed the pair. A young girl, highschool aged, was running towards an older woman. Obviously, her mother. They embraced. Together, they leave.
Touching. The bond between a daughter and their mother.
Máo visited her mother’s grave often. Holidays, celebrations, and occasionally days with no significant meaning that Eiji could identify, she would come and sit by the tombstone bringing with her small tokens of love and affection. Flowers, strips of cloth, food, and time…oh, so much time was given to her mother here.
Perhaps one of the most endearing things he had witnessed in so long.
The young lady would come to the last resting place of her mother on the last day of the year. The sky was a dark blue, the waning night sky decorated with colors preceding the first sunrise. Cold bitter wind whipped his hair wildly around his face, but there was no mistaking her stride.
She was squinting with her one uncovered eye. Wrapping in a large jacket, carrying a small baked treat, Eiji watched as she realized just who had come to visit.
The Dictator was standing next to a large hole in the ground, holding a spade next to him, smiling warmly. As the sun rose over the horizon, Máo would be able to make out the small inscription on resting on the newly placed tombstone.
Here Lies the Ultimate Stylist
Máo Dai
Beloved Daughter, Friend, and Follower
The Stylist expressed many emotions within the span of a second. Confusion, dawning realization, terror, and anger. So much anger, trembling with rage, and Eiji even wondered if she would attempt to strike him.
Instead, something strange happened. Quiet resignation…no, no. That was not right. It was acceptance. There was a hint of hesitance but then she glanced over to her mother.
And perhaps she merely realized this was a way home.
The Dictator sat down. Pat the ground next to him, and she took to the seat. Not a word was uttered. The air was filled with silent finality. He had questions, so many questions, but it was not fair for him to ask them.
As the sun rose slowly over the horizon, blanketing the group with its glorious light, Eiji stood up. From his pocket he took out a familiar bundle of flowers. Their purple petals were easily recognizable but the thing bundling them was new. A red band of fabric, a large X was messily drawn over it.
The two placed their gifts down. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Eiji could see the slightest of tremors in his friend. She was always so proud, so strong, and perhaps she would remain that way to her death. Taking hold of her shoulder, she stiffens. The Dictator embraces her. A small apology, a forfeit of his mission for a mere moment.
Within seconds the comforting embrace he offered was an ensnaring grasp. His arms snaked their way around her head, panicking her, her nails trying to scratch out his eyes as she wrestled to break free. He ignored it all. He simply stared at the glorious rising sun.
With a twist of his arms, Eiji reunites a mother and her lost daughter.
It had been an hour and he had not moved from this spot. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, people choosing to walk around him and police officers standing off to the side. It is obvious they wanted to do something, but Eiji was a rather terrifying figure. Glaring at the pigs, the Dictator scoffs and leaves the area.
The inner machinations of a Dictator are never pleasant. Any introspection is done without enthusiasm. His own thoughts have proven to be rather difficult to combat, making him more of an unwitting prisoner to his own psyche. With his history, it is amazing he was able to function without harming others…unintentionally.
Years spent toiling away under the servitude of a mad man. He would be torn apart only to be put back together in a mocking fashion. The man meant to rule the world was a plaything for those who wanted to see how far they could drive an Ultimate. What happens if you take someone above you and continually torment them, despite their obvious status?
The long answer was a being beyond your own comprehension. Adaptability is a core human trait, and to develop it further, you create something that cannot be taken down easily. A beast that needs something to cling to, something to run towards, as an escape from the unparalleled truth that his life is nothing. And what funnier thing would there be, what more humorous item would be his final goal, than world conquering?
No one could have known what they were doing. For all their genius, their predictions, their power, they could not begin to fathom the sheer willpower that Eiji possessed. The tenacity. And each single one of them got the tiniest taste of that.
Short answer? You create your own demise.
And here he was. Alone. His own mind finally unraveled after so long. Perhaps he could manage it. There was no one to go to anymore. No allies to be trusted. No friends.
For obvious reasons.
Friends were a liability, after all. That was one of the first few lessons that he was taught, that any allies you make are simply resources and must be terminated for your own gain. Otherwise, they would backstab you.
And yet, here he was missing his friend.
They would meet under a flag of truce. A small talk, something that the two had been attempting to bring into being for some time. An abandoned factory deep in a remote forest, a warehouse that previously housed contraband that Eiji now owned.
She was so happy to see him again, and he would be lying if her presence had not filled him with joy. It was fun again. The two had been against unfair odds and had both come out on top in their own ways and, for a second, it almost felt that way again. Two weirdos breaking rules for what they think is right.
But just as before what the two had thought was ‘right’ differed.
Pantera wanted him to come with her. Her smile was so forced but it was so true. She was the last one of their group at this point. Boris had been publicly executed, Rufus disappeared on a supposed recon mission, Chihiro had deserted the F.o.N and went missing, and Máo had not been heard from in weeks.
It was obvious that he was stained with each of their blood, but she still reached out to him. Every excuse, every lie she tried to convince herself with, it weighed heavily on his mind. His partner was so deluded, so desperate to have him be someone who does not exist.
What he wanted was to have someone at his side who would not betray him. Eiji believed that she would be at his side and not dare to think such thoughts. However, Eiji was not a fan of coming second to anyone, which was an issue in terms of Pantera’s…favorite person.
She would not listen, he cannot find the through line here anymore, she just keeps deluding herself more and more, refusing to listen to him. Their voices are rising in volume, neither backing down on their stances, and a part of him knew this would happen. The empty warehouse would echo their words, creating a cacophony of dialogue, adding more to the pandemonium.
Then they were blinded.
A large flash of heat and light shocked the two out of their disagreement. It was just like the killing game; a sudden ignition was all it took to engulf their world with flames. Pantera was slow on the uptake it seemed, as she looked around trying to find an exit, Eiji already was halfway up the stairs.
Support beams were crumbling, smoke was enveloping the entire building, blazing heat radiated from every angle. The Shaman, unfamiliar with this place, simply followed the Dictator as closely as she could. As the second floor’s supports gave out, he began climbing what appeared to be a ladder to the roof. She barely could grasp the first rung before the floor gave way.
The night sky was visible, her dear friend was already out reaching to her. His pale hand covered in so many scars was so comforting, so familiar, but there was this unexplainable sense of dread at the sight of it.
“GIVE ME YOUR HAND!”
At his command she reached out to him just as the ladder fell away. Dangling over a fiery pit of debris, panting heavily, Pantera looked up to thank the Dictator for saving her…but she could see something odd. Poking out from under his sleeve. A stuffy material, it looked protective and was well hidden.
Her face expressed confusion and met with his eyes. Pulling out of his pocket, an unreadable expression on his face, he pulls out a small remote. A detonator.
“That was my idea. I know it’s been a while but… it isn’t exactly kind to just steal someone else’s murder plan.”
“But… I’m glad you remembered; I didn’t think you would. Fire cleanses.”
“Apologizes. You know how I am, I have a flair for the theatrics.”
"How could I? You had such an affinity for it, and I agree. It rids us of sins and imperfections...I missed you. I missed all of you. I loved you all despite everything."
“Gorgeous, isn’t it? I never regretted it. All it took was a flame, and… and it was over. We cleansed, we judged, and we won.”
“But we- no. I lost you.”
“You know it’s not too late, right?”
"You didn't lose me. You choose differently. You choose wrong . This...these people you ally yourself with, those, those are the people who will inevitably fail."
"Late? Late?! Do you realize what is happening here? I am your savior right now! I have always been your savior! Look below us! That is what awaits you if you stick with them...if you stay with her...please. I...I deserve you."
“I used to think about it during the nights. How if you had come earlier, regardless of the circumstances, I would be by your side. Kinda sad, right?”
That’s exactly why I say it’s not to late. You saved me, you keep saving me. No one else has the honor to say that, no one else lived to talk about it. And I think… you’ll keep saving me.”
“It would be fitting, wouldn’t it?”
“In another life, perhaps.”
"It's not, I promise you my dear, it's not. I'm...I'm sorry for coming so late."
"Keep saving...do you not see this? Where we are?! I did this. I did this because, some part of me, some part of my soul needs you. But you will never leave her, and you will never have my complete trust because you're with..."
"YOU'LL DIE ALONGSIDE THEM! This is the life! This can be the life where you join me! They will all fall, the Masquerade, Bunko Corp, AMDG, the Feathers! Below you is the future that awaits if you cannot realize that. Damnation and ruin...is she really worth all that Pantera?"
“But it is, and there’s nothing we can do about it. We can’t just linger on the what-ifs, guilt is useless now.”
“And you won’t let go of me. You won’t, right?”
“You’re not the villain they say you are. I know it because I need you as much as you need me. We’re friends! That’s a two-way street.”
“I made my choice. And still, I came here to meet you. I lied and I ran just to come here and see you again, because I love you! But that’s the difference between us.”
“You can say you love us all you want, but that will never make it true. If it was, you would know why my destiny is meaningless to me, and why she is worth it all.”
“…she is worth it all?”
“I truly hope that sentiment doesn’t change halfway down my dear.”
“Goodbye friend.”
They had been brought together by luck. She came with a mission, and he was simply cattle. The two of them had succeeded so splendidly when working together. She made him feel loved and kind. Always taking his hand no matter how scared she looked. After all this time, he was still holding on.
Eiji let go.
Where was he?
The streets were empty. No one was around anymore. Just a lone Dictator standing in the middle of nowhere. His body was shaking slightly as he wiped away stray tears and carried his sorry body forward. He finds a bus stop and rests there.
Its been nearly a week since he’s been contacted. The isolation was getting to his head, that had to be it. That would explain why he was aimlessly trailing around this city. What had he done today?
His confusion was abruptly cut off when a familiar chime filled the air. Pulling out his phone, the Dictator checked the text.
PLEASE PROCEED TO THE FOLLOWING LOCATIONS AND RETRIEVE OUR PACKAGES. IT IS IMPERITIVE YOU DO SO EFFECTIVELY. ALL INFORMATION YOU REQUIRE WILL BE PROVIDED SHORTLY.
As soon as he finished reading the cryptic text, his phone vibrated violently. A torrent of messages were being sent to him, all from different numbers, each one obviously containing rather incriminating evidence. Checking through them, he was pleased at what he found. Addresses, names, pictures, schedules, all he needed. There was…about a dozen or so of them. Typically, Bunko Corp employed a more ‘humane’ way of extracting these packages involving payment and professional atmosphere.
Eiji offered them a more straightforward and cost-effective solution.
It would take him about a week to gather all their goods. Maybe less if he did not care much for properly storing them. Either way, he had a long walk. He would need a truck and the 5G, being so generous, did not give him one. It is fine, he has a truck guy.
Two days pass by quickly.
It was eight AM.
First pickup. The Dictator knocks on a small door, and the moment it creaks open, he grips the wooden frame tightly and pushes his way in.
“Good day my dear friends. My name is Eiji Akatsuki.”
The door was broken off its hinges, below him was someone cowering in fear, and suddenly, Eiji could not remember what had been bugging him. Two days with no one just blurred in his mind, who knows what could have happened. It did not matter, this was real.
“I understand you have an Ultimate residing here.”
Sighing loudly, he looked around the space. Part of him was excited. Happy even to be involved in this procedure. But something, something locked away was screaming at him. Every nerve in his body could not help but feel repulsed. But it was not his part to be disgusted. To be angered.
Eiji was a Dictator. Someone who would rule the world and the world could not be ruled by someone who did not get their hands dirty. Debasing himself is nothing new, the shame and guilt are just figments of his imagination, now is the time for the action.
“I was wondering…could they come out and play a game with me?”
A week.
It took a week for him to get all their packages.
Not a single issue arose. No fighting, no chasing, no resistance, simply come in and scare them a little. Give them their payment and set these poor passengers into his large moving van. It was a black unmarked van with the license plate proudly displaying CHARON. A fitting title.
Dropping off the last of his deliveries, his phone made a small beep. Pulling it up, the Dictator tilted his head reading the message. Before his eyes widened and he hopped back into his ride. As he climbed back into his vehicle the phone was cast onto the seat next to him, visible for anyone to see its content.
A single location was sent to him. Bold text stared back at him.
REBIRTH IN PROCESS. LOCATION TRACKED. EXTRACT AND RAZE.
Violating several traffic laws, Eiji was happy to experience the more chaotic side of this job. For too long he had been idle. The action here was enough to keep the whispers in the back of his mind silent. No longer was he an audience member for the confusing nightmare that was his psyche, he was grounded in the moment, happy to ignore the churning emotions he felt.
It is time to cleanse these sinners.
One AM. He arrived at his destination three hours before, but now, he was standing a mile away surveying his target. The facility was modest. It was not as lucrative as Bunko Corp’s own buildings, but it was understandable. This place was never meant to be found by someone like him.
The Feathers of Nobility compound stood before him.
In his hand was a small device, a remote that had been in his collection for some time. It felt odd holding it. Knowing that, today, he was going to bring some of his mind’s machinations into existence. This was his mission after all. Eiji was going to stop allowing his mind to pull him in whatever direction it wanted. A dictator needed to take charge. Needed to lead this world into a bright and shining new era.
The sound of the button being pressed is mute. But the sound following it was deafening. Bright lights of orange and red color the night sky gracefully. In the distance a siren begins ringing. He had brought fire to earth, and how sincerely he wished it had already been kindled. The laughter of a dear friend echoes in his mind.
“…let us see if I can’t go help a few of them escape. After all, they look like they need someone to guide them.”
Baring his teeth in the ghost of a smile, the Dictator walks down the hill merrily singing Ring around the Rosie.
Pandemonium. Inside the burning facility, there was almost no defense for him coming in. People were running, some shouting orders, one was obviously trying to organize some evacuation effort, but all their exits had been blocked off.
Who could have done that?
When he was noticed, there was an audible minute of silence. Despite the burning inferno around them, the entire group stopped to stare at the man who just entered their ablaze sanctuary. Their eyes filled with confusion, anger, and those who knew what hell had entered their safe haven, their eyes filled with terror.
“Hello. I am Eiji Akatsuki.”
A beam fell beside him, nearly crushing him. The flames licked his face painfully, but the young man did not flinch. He demanded their attention. No amount of disaster would take it away from him. After all, he had quite the message to announce.
“I was sent here on behalf of some highly important individuals to ask a simple question.”
Their fear was beginning to wane. Perhaps the fear of dying in this burning building was beginning to outweigh the terror he exuded. Around them all the flames danced beautifully, illuminating all their features so elegantly, allowing him to take in every single detail of his future citizens.
How he adored them.
“Would you care for a little rematch?”
It was palpable. The change in the air. No longer were they members of the rebellious Feathers of Nobility, no, they were terrified children. Remembering every single moment in those killing games, reliving the dread of every second, and here this man was, to take them back to their own personal hell.
“RUSH HIM!”
A rather vocal individual shouted, snapping so many of their members out of their stupors. In Eiji’s need for attention, he had placed himself between those trying to escape and the one exit. It was only natural to see him as a wall to get around.
And rush him they did. Most rushed past, but one, one had tackled him around the middle expecting him to move. Instead Eiji sighed loudly and looked down at the brave attacker.
“We have a volunteer! Terribly sorry my dear friend, you should have followed the rest of them.”
How many had tried to stop him? It was difficult to say. They all fought so brilliantly. Each one coming at him over and over while so many others trickled out from the burning ruins. Buying time, buying time while others went around gathering all their personnel.
Two more joined in. And then another. Four of them were trying so desperately to contain him, and Eiji allowed them to think they were winning. What use was there to win this battle? He would then be forced to drag out several bodies from this burning building.
Monologues of justice went in one ear and out the other. Snide one liner accompanying attacks were ignored. Most of them had no true strength and were merely helping in hopes of being a hero. The main character syndrome was strong with these Ultimates.
Someone landed a rather solid kick to his stomach, and Eiji allowed himself to fall backwards. He could hear them leaving as the place began to crumble. Staring upwards, the smoke and ash burning his eyes, the young man was reminded of that one dream. That one strange episode with his dear friend.
It would have been fun to play with her again.
Standing up, barely avoiding falling debris, he began walking out. The sounds of destruction obscured his steps, the billowing smoke hid him from sight, allowing him a moment to stretch out his muscle and breathe deeply.
He could hear four voices. Then five. Disagreement was brewing, and as the building continued to fall into itself, cries of disbelief and anguish were heard. As if they were mourning someone still inside.
As the last supports fell, the cold evening air pressed against his burning skin so comfortingly. Mere seconds after stepping outside, the whole structure finally collapsed. Cheers of celebration, of victory could be heard outside the haze. How could they not be so elated? They had burned the Dictator to death, so they believed.
And in honor of their apparent win, he applauded them.
As his applause filled the air, their chatter died down quickly.
“Congratulations. I must admit, this was quite the brawl.”
He was burnt. Dusty a little too. Better people had done less damage to him before. As Eiji left his smokescreen, a result of the now smoldering flames, he was met with five individuals.
“I almost had to use three percent of my power. Is that a meme? I apologize, I have been too busy kidnapping people to check reddit.”
Looks of utter horror on their faces, the Dictator removed his blazer. Cracking his neck, he looked at the group. He doubted all of them would come without a fight. At least one would simply surrender. As for the others…perhaps this would be a good lesson for them.
“Now then…”
On shaky legs with determined glares, they charged him yet again. Only this time, they would all awake hours later, en route to an old nightmare.
“How about round 2?”