I don't want to call this guy Hidan because he's not Hidan exactly, but I'm still working on a name that embodies the fun MHA naming conventions of having a meaning that's really on the nose, so he continues to remain nameless in this chapter.

Mad Dogs Running Wild

"Male, early twenties, above-average height, muscular build. Purple eyes, light gray hair slicked back…"

The police officer typed the answers in-time with Eraser, eyes focused on the laptop in front of him. They were seated in the summer camp building in a private room designated for meetings between heroes or teachers. Now, it served as a temporary base of operations for the police at the scene to take witness testimony after the U.A. summer training camp disaster while the events were still fresh in their minds.

Eraser was looking rough. Multiple paramedics had attempted to dissuade him from delaying medical attention, but he had ignored them all. Securing this information now was far more vital before time made memories fail. The police at least managed to persuade him to get bandaged up before they would speak with him, observing the bloodied gashes on his leg, arms, and hand that would surely need to be thoroughly cleaned and stitched up, later. He obliged, and then went straight to the chair with the officer across from him.

The questions themselves weren't anything new to Eraser. After so many years of hero work, the paperwork that came after the action was just a fact of life. The circumstances, though… his level voice, logically devoid of emotion, gave away none of the tension he was feeling.

Fifteen of his forty students were in critical condition. Eleven others were injured. And one was missing. They took him alive. His brain assured him. You didn't go to the troublesome effort of abducting someone just to kill them, logically. But were these villains logical? Could their way of thinking truly be predicted like that? He wanted to believe that they had a purpose in taking him alive, and for that reason, Bakugo Katsuki must be alive.

"Were you able to observe his Quirk?"

Eraser was silent, and the officer looked up. All of his answers were so immediate and succinct that a single pause carried weight. Visions of the villain with a stake pierced through his chest, skeletal markings coating his skin, and Vlad collapsing with his heart bleeding out while the villain was healed cycled through Eraser's mind. There was a pattern to it that he could recognize, but not so much that he could form a definitive conclusion on its workings. He told the officer as much, describing the events of the battle chronologically, focusing on stating the facts only and not hypothesizing anything. Now was not the time for that.

If I had fought him instead of Vlad, it wouldn't have happened. The thought couldn't help but worm into the back of his mind, whispering in an accusatory tone. He ignored it. Attacking Dabi was the most logical course of action at the time. Vlad was equally-matched physically to the scythe-wielder by his estimation, and his preference for weaponry was ideal for Vlad's style of close-range capture combat with Blood Control. Erasure put a stop to Dabi's flames immediately while Vlad would have been disadvantaged against a ranged opponent. Erasure would have put a stop to the scythe-wielder's Quirk in an instant, too. If you had just picked correctly, it never would have happened—

Now is not the time.

"The villain called 'Dabi' came back to save the scythe-wielder?"

"That's right."

The officer paused for a moment then typed.

"Earlier, you said the villain called 'Dabi' referred to him as a 'psycho' and 'Dumbass'. Did their relationship seem antagonistic? Or, was there familiarity between them?" What was the common ground that bound all these underworld threads together?

"They coordinated their attacks well. They spoke rather roughly towards each other. I can't determine much beyond that."

"And he never referred to the scythe-wielder by name?"

"Correct."

The officer typed.

"What happened next?"

He got away. Eraser didn't let it show how much he was stewing on that fact. That dangerous scythe-wielder and all but two of the others. Muscular hadn't been found, either, despite Midoriya's apparent victory. Scythe, Muscular, and Dabi; those three alone were enough to make his blood boil. They got away.

Somewhere, they were lurking in the shadows. Somewhere, they had Bakugo Katsuki captured alive. Somewhere, they would strike next.

And there was nothing Eraser could do about it but paperwork.

The testimony wrapped up, the police officer thanked him for his words, and then he was whisked away by an impatient-looking paramedic to be taken to the hospital for treatment. All of the injured students had been taken ahead of himself, just as he liked. Vlad had been the first. Vlad…

Eraser's eyes hardened. Wherever they struck next, he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He wasn't going to let the scythe-wielder out of his sight.

"Hah… hah… hah…fuckin'… deadweight."

The villain huffed, dragging the large body of Muscular along by his armpits. Sweat streaked down his face and chest, and he looked exhausted. He had carried the hulking brute of a man across his back for as long as his strength would allow, but eventually, he just had to drop the bastard. He'd been dragging him across his ass through the dirt ever since, up and down all the god-forsaken forest terrain. Fortunately, he had gotten them far enough away from the summer camp that they weren't at risk of being captured.

He paused, letting Muscular's body go with an unceremonious flop. His face tilted back towards the sky as he stretched out his spine, breathing deeply. He pulled a phone out of his jacket pocket and looked down again to check the screen; GPS. He had been careful to pick a road some distance from the camp to aim for to avoid the cops. Years of evading capture had taught him that much. However, in practice, this plan was going miserably with the marker on the screen barely moving for all the effort he was putting into this. He glared irritably at the unconscious man flat-out in the dirt. "This is your fault, bastard. Fucking wake up, already."

Muscular didn't oblige him so much as a twitch. The villain kept glaring. "If I had left you behind, I wouldn't have to be dealing with any of this crap, you know." He stalked over to the unconscious villain and stood above him with a foot to either side of Muscular's hips, glaring down on his busted-up face.

"I could just leave you out here, you know. You'd wake up without a fucking clue where you are or where to go." The villain lifted his foot and stomped it down on Muscular's stomach. A few more stomps across Muscular's shirtless torso followed, and then he dug his boot into Muscular's cheek. He paused, glared at him silently for a moment, and then pulled his boot back. He crouched over him and grabbed a tight fistful of Muscular's hair, lifting his head close to his own face.

"I could strip you buck-ass naked for good measure, just to piss you off. Hell, you're already half-naked." Muscular's slack jaw offered no complaint. Purple eyes squinted as he threw Muscular's head back against the ground and put a hand into a pouch on his belt, pulling out a retractable spear and whipping it to its full length. He swiped it down sharply, stopping it with the tip just shy of touching Muscular's remaining eye.

"I could carve you up. Here, and here, and hereandhereandhere!" He brought the spear down over Muscular's vitals, tip ghosting the air above his skin. "I could just start stabbing until you wake up screaming, then rip out your chords and shove'em down your throat to shut you back up." The final stroke of his spear touched Muscular's throat. He pressed in slightly, watching the tiny pinprick of blood that formed with an intense focus.

"… I'm bullshitting of course, but I could do it, ya know." The tension in his gaze broke as he glanced away disinterestedly and lowered the spear. He stood and walked away, turning back around to face Muscular as he slid his back down against a tree with a sigh, settling with his arms wrapped loosely around his knees and the spear held lightly in his fingers.

"… But. Nah. I don't feel like it." He looked at Muscular again, the intensity from before gone and replaced with an oddly honest, admirable look from the bloodthirsty villain. "A pathetic death like that is unworthy of you."

Muscular still didn't move, and the other villain was motionless for a long pause as he looked at him. Then, his head dropped back against the bark as he closed his eyelids, resting his eyes and his buzzing muscles. There wasn't really any point in rushing right now. The heroes and the police didn't even fucking know they were out here. Since the Meat-Headed Bastard was going to sleep on the job, he could take a load off, too. Just for a minute…

The first time they had met, they were meant to kill each other.

Two rival crime groups, in a bid for domination over the other, had each gotten the same bright idea of recruiting their own blood-thirsty brute. When both groups met with deadly intent, only one man from each side was smiling.

"Ohhh? You're kind of small, ain't cha?" Muscular loomed over the purple-eyed man a foot shorter than himself, grinning dangerously. "What's a small-fry like you got to smile about, hm? You one of those little guys with big egos who go splat in the first round?"

The smaller man laughed, his own teeth bared in return. "You look like a meat-headed bastard who can't handle more than one thought at a time."

Muscular laughed right back; an unfriendly sound. "That's right! I'm a simple man. I follow my whim. Right now, I want to kill you. So that's what I'm going to do." His left arm extended to the side, skin rippling as the muscles expanded underneath. "But tell you what, I like the gleam in your eyes. So I'll play nice." The rippling stopped and he held up his muscularly-enhanced left arm with three fingers raised. "I'll give you three shots before I get serious." His left hand snapped shut into a fist and he coiled his arm back, grinning wildly. "Try not to go splat too soon, 'kay little man?!"

The scythe-wielder managed to pull away from Muscular just in time, the man's arm passing by his face in a blur so close that the wind brushed his skin. He immediately spun away and gained some distance while the concrete where he had been standing was shattered. The villain noted Muscular's speed; the same as his own.

"That's strike one!" Muscular held up a finger as he grinned at him and stalked forward slowly, savoring the game.

The purple-eyed villain lowered the scythe from his shoulder. He hadn't stopped smiling.

"That's a wild-looking blade. Sure hope you know how to use it!" Muscular lunged forward, clearing the several-meters gap between them in a single bound.

The purple-eyed villain dodged forward at an angle to Muscular as his fists flew forward, allowing him to take a swipe at Muscular's flank with the scythe's range. It was just a hair too slow, however, with Muscular's body plowing by as a blur. The ground where the scythe-wielder had been shattered, leaving a somewhat bigger crater this time.

The scythe-wielder sized Muscular up as he turned to face him again. A head-on attack, same as before. He had been ready for him, but the brute had moved faster than last time.

"Hey, I'm impressed. You haven't gone splat, yet." Muscular turned to face him as well, winding his left arm up like he was preparing for a pitch. "Alright, you've got one shot left!" His arm locked into place as he zeroed-in on the other villain. "Here we go!"

The villain timed his counter-attack differently this time, moving one beat ahead of Muscular. The brute of a villain charged as the smaller man threw his scythe while leaping backward, grabbing ahold of the cable and whipping it. As fast as he was moving, Muscular could still dodge the straight-on scythe, but with the whipping motion, its path shifted erratically. The blades passed on his blind-eye side, a smart move on the wielder's part. Muscular listened to the whistle of air next to his ear and tucked his head on instinct honed from responding to such speeds with his Quirk. But the moment stretched in an odd way; no, the scythe was coming back, retracting on the cable to follow him. The lowest blade skimmed his shoulder as he shattered the empty concrete.

Muscular watched the cable of the scythe retract with mild surprise then examined the minuscule cut on his skin and laughed. "Oh, that was a neat little trick. Quick! Get me a band-aid! Hahahah!"

He straightened up from the crater in the ground, the joints in both of his arms popping as tissues shifted. "Sorry, little man, but that's three strikes. And you what that means."

His arms and chest bulged, then bundles of muscles burst out and coiled around his upper body. With a frenzied leer, Muscular laughed as he leaped for the scythe-wielder again with his right arm pulled back.

"Yoooouuu're out!"

Even as Muscular bore down on him with all of his killing intent, the purple-eyed villain didn't move, a smile on his face as he stood his ground and swiped his tongue across the blood on his blade.

There was a lull in the fighting between the criminal factions around them as Muscular shattered a section of the concrete floor with such force that it sent out tremors which gave all of them pause for concern. Their eyes found Muscular laughing as the dust cleared and he straightened up from the massive crater in the ground, muscle fibers swirling around him in a huge bundle.

"Hahaha! And that's that. Nothing but fodder in the end. Man, that's a shame, I actually had a little bit of hope for that guy."

One faction's spirit lifted victoriously while the other's slumped in trepidation as Muscular turned his sights to new prey. "Now, onto the rest of you worthless trash." Muscular started to stalk towards them away from the crater, muscle fibers coiled around his limbs and lashing up in tendrils like spikes as he grinned like a demon. However, on his third step away from the crater, his gait faltered. The grin turned to a grimace as a sharp pain washed through his torso.

"Urgh!" What the hell?! Muscular hunched over, arms wrapping around himself as agonizing pain gripped his organs. "Ahhhhh! Aaagh! Gah! Who—who the fuck—?!" Muscular snarled as he reeled around aiming a furious gaze to the criminals all around. Who the fuck hit me?!

An ominous laugh sounded behind him, and Muscular froze for a moment. That voice! He spun around to face the crater, smile gone from the pain and arms still clutching his abdomen. A form sat up in the center of the crater.

"If you had been serious from the start, you would have killed me for real."

Something moved, and purple eyes flashed open instantly at the sound, hand tightening around the spear. A glance confirmed that it was only Muscular's boot sliding along the ground as his leg shifted. His grip on the spear didn't loosen as he watched Muscular cough, a hand going across his aching torso then up to his jaw.

Muscular's eyes opened with a squint, staring up at the darkness of the night for a moment as he assessed his swollen jaw and put the pieces of his memories post-blackout back together. Midoriya… His eyes sharpened.

He propped himself up on his elbows and lifted his aching head, struggling to move from the protest of his muscles. Shit, the kid had hit him hard, but not so hard he should be out of it like this. Everything ached; and why the hell was his back all scratched up like he got dragged by a car? His ass hurt, too. What the fuck?

Muscular peered around in the darkness and was disoriented by the trees. Where the hell was the cliff and Midoriya with the pipsqueak? How long was he out for? Was the mission over? If it was, how and why the hell did he end up here? It took him a while to spot the hunched form sitting motionless against the tree. His eyes focused with recognition.

"What the fuck are you doing here? You're supposed to be attacking the main building."

"Idiot. The mission's over," the other villain shot back at him.

"Over…?"

"Fuckin' done hours ago, Sleeping Beauty. See?" The purple-eyed villain pointed up at the sky, and Muscular tilted his head back. There was a faint hint of light in the east, signaling the approaching dawn. But they had attacked at night, before midnight. So if it was the next day and they were here…

"Fuck. The evacuation point!"

"Uh-huh."

Muscular's fist pounded the ground beside him in anger. He'd been knocked out so hard he'd slept the night away. Damn, it had been a hell of a long time since that had happened to him. So, they were stuck out in the woods, now. Great. Wait. They. He pulled himself up further into a stiff seated position to get a better look at his fellow villain. He looked tired as fuck and his scythe was nowhere to be seen, but he was alert enough to have a retractable spear at the ready. "I get why I got left behind. That little shit Midoriya knocked me out 'cuz I got careless with him. But why the hell are you here?"

The purple-eyed villain chuckled. "Man, you really are an idiot. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

Muscular growled, looking annoyed. "Just get to the point!"

He seemed to be enjoying annoying Muscular and cast his eyes around at the forest. "Didn't you notice? You aren't on that cliff anymore. And neither of us made it to the evacuation point, even though I easily could have. Instead, we're out in the ass-end of the woods. Why is that, hmmm? Go on, I'll give your simple-minded brain a minute to figure it out." The villain watched Muscular expectantly.

Muscular stared back at the smaller man as he worked the gears into place. When it finally clicked his eye widened in realization, then sharped with a newfound fury casting a shadow over his face.

"What the hell…?"

His teeth clenched in a snarl as he ignored his protesting body and struggled up onto his knees, striving to rise. He pulled one wobbly knee up and planted a foot on the ground, then forced his body upwards. He stumbled a few unsteady steps but caught himself, pausing a moment as he continued to glower at the other man. "You saying… you saved me?"

The smaller man chuckled despite the dangerous gleam in Muscular's eye. "You make it sound like I'm some hero."

Muscular lurched forward, hunching in an unsteady gait. "What the hell are you trying to pull, huh…?"

There was a slight pause in his gait, and the man on the ground recognized it instantly as Muscular coiling the muscles in his legs with what little energy he had right now. The spear in his hand which he had kept a firm hold on since Muscular's awakening was raised before Muscular's sudden lunge even began. The hulking villain threw himself forward with right hand outstretched, finding the purple-eyed villain's throat. The rest of him faltered slightly ending up back on his knees with his left arm bracing against the tree, looming over the smaller man.

As for the spear-wielder, the tip of his weapon pressed against the dip in Muscular's throat served as an equal warning to Muscular's grip on his own. The larger man didn't seem to care. Muscular's teeth flashed as he shouted furiously into his face.

"You looking to make me owe you?! I never asked for charity! The brat and I tried our best, and my intent to kill him lost, that's just how it goes. I'd go to prison without holding a grudge, but I'm not some fucking damsel in need of rescue! I'm not giving you a single favor, dammit! I'll kill you first for trying to pull that crap!"

The spear wielder's eyes flashed in equal anger, and then it was his turn to move. Muscular was pushed back with a sudden burst of strength from the other man who used the pressure of the spear on his throat to force him to yield. Their positions reversed with Muscular on his back and the other villain on his chest. The spear stayed to Muscular's neck and Muscular's hands on the other man's throat with their glares not budging as the other man took his turn to shout.

"You fucking Meat-Headed Bastard! How dare you think I'm some sleazy shit! I don't give a crap about you owing me anything, that's not why I did it! Dumb fuck! Why don't you rub your two brain cells together and figure it out?!" The villain paused in his tirade and they fumed, glaring at each other. Muscular stubbornly refused to reply. The purple-eyed villain didn't back down either, but after the silence started stretching out, his snarled lip dropped with an exasperated sigh.

"… Fine, I'll spell it out for you." The anger in his eyes mellowed out and the pressure of the spear eased up slightly. This didn't escaped Muscular's notice, but he neither looked calmer nor loosened his grip. Purple eyes met his sharp black gaze earnestly.

"I did it because we're the same… Because the world needs someone like you. Like us… You're an honest killer, through and through."

Muscular's eye widened a little. Purple eyes remained on him steadily. Muscular's fury quieted, and his stubbornness dissolved. He thought about it for real. Thought back to a time not so different from right now.

"If you had been serious from the start, you would have killed me for real."

Muscular stared uncomprehendingly as the purple-eyed man rose up out of the crater where'd he'd left him. Killed him. "What the hell is this?"

The man looked at him and chuckled with a smile. It looked unnerving with the skeletal markings that had overtaken his skin. But most perplexing to Muscular was that his body wasn't nearly so damaged as just a few seconds ago when he'd turned away. "Tch… regeneration, huh?"

Purple-eyes crinkled further in an even bigger smile as he chuckled again; mocking him. Muscular snarled. "Don't you dare laugh at m—" His breath caught in his throat. Muscular choked and coughed several times, his insides jarred shockingly each time making it only harder to breathe. His head bowed forward and he panted and spat, watching and tasting the blood that dripped from his mouth and splattered onto the ground.

Regeneration… no, that wasn't it. Something was off about it. Who had hit him? His insides were fucking aching and no one was there! There was only him, and sudden markings… Muscular looked up again, glaring with no confident smile from before to be found on his bloodied mouth. "You did this to me, didn't you? Fucker! What the hell is your Quirk?"

"You said you'd play nice, but that wasn't true at all," the man replied instead, rolling his shoulders as he spotted his scythe close by. "I moved as fast as I could each time, but you sped up each time. You rig the game so that you always win, huh? Lame." He picked up the weapon and gave it a light twirl. "Well, anyway, this is what you get for such a bullshit move." His eyes shifted back to Muscular, leering as he pointed the weapon at him. "It's my turn to pick the game now. There's only one rule." His grin split wide and crazed, head tilting to the side. "Hurt me as much you can without dying."

Muscular stared at him without getting it, then his teeth gritted and he growled. "What the fuck? Don't screw around with me!"

"I'm dead serious!" The man laughed, throwing his arms open wide. "See? Go for it! I won't even fight back. Just don't get too excited or the game will be over in a flash—!"

Muscular flew forward in an instant, swiping the man up by his throat and holding him high with his feet off the ground. He clenched his fingers tightly as he snarled into the man's face. "Cut the bullshit and answer me, or I'll break every bo—"

Muscular's throat went tight with an invisible hand choking the words in his mouth. Startled, he pawed at his throat with his other hand. I can't breathe…! He tossed the man aside and pulled his hands to his throat, struggling against an unseen force. The invisible hand disappeared as the man hit the ground, and Muscular sucked in a gasp that turned into a few wheezing breaths from the fluid that rattled in his lungs.

Muscular panted and tried to absorb what had happened for a few moments, staring at the ground. A hand on my neck… He lifted his own hand and stared at it, then his gaze flicked to the man picking himself off the ground. A hand around his neck…

Muscular stalked forward a few steps then pounced, grabbing the man by his left arm and squeezing intensely with his enhanced arm. He winced as his own left arm was struck by a sharp, crushing pain. He threw the man back and let his arm go, sending him backpedaling several steps before catching his balance. Muscular examined his own left arm, feeling how the immediate pain quickly subsided into a dull throb.

"It looks like you get it now."

Muscular looked up coldly at his gloating smile. "Whatever harm I inflict on you, I get instead."

"Yeah, it really turns things on its head, doesn't it?" The man confirmed with a dark chuckle. "You want to kill me so badly, but now if you do… you'll kill you instead."

Muscular's hand curled into a trembling fist. He suddenly sprang forward, throwing his fist into the man's face. Muscular held his punch back a little, though. The man went flying several meters and landed. He watched the man sit up and look back at him with a grin. He pointed at his punched cheek. "Your turn!"

Muscular winced as his own jaw ignited with pain. With mounting fury he ignored it and lunged again, punching the man in the chest. By the time the man landed, Muscular was doubled over coughing up more blood from his wounded lungs. The man brushed himself off and stood up, smiling and seemingly unaffected.

"Big guys like you always reject your fate like this. You've been the biggest shark in your stretch of the sea your whole life. Every problem, you rip it apart. You saw a puny pufferfish and thought you could devour him too, but you didn't count on his poison. The struggle is futile, you know?"

"Shut up!"

Muscular grabbed him and crushed him up against a wall, ignoring the pain digging into his own back as a desperate grimace marred his face. "You get hurt first, don't you, huh?! I can hurt you! This pain is nothing to me! I'll make you fucking pay!"

The man laughed in his face, purple eyes brimming with mirth. "And it's absolutely wonderful! More, more! I love this feeling so much! Show me everything you can do. I want to feel it all!"

A masochist. Muscular's teeth hurt from clenching. A masochist who he couldn't kill. Muscle fibers roiled all over his body, and then he whipped around with a scream to throw the man all the way across the abandoned concrete complex where they fought. The criminal factions they represented fighting around them shuddered and pulled away, giving the pair a wide berth. The only ones crazy enough to fight psychos like that were the psychos themselves.

The man rolled many times, landing violently against the concrete before sliding to a rough stop. Muscular's body tensed and shuddered with each blow buffeting his wounded organs as if he were the one sent flying. He gripped his sides and wheezed, the wind knocked out of his lungs. I can't… I can't fight him like this! It's going to kill me! Think… think! He lifted his eyes and locked onto the man again, then bounded over furiously and pinned him down to the ground before he could get up. He snarled down at his face, muscles swelling and coiling around him.

"How the fuck does your Quirk work?!" There's got to be a way out! Every Quirk's got one!

The man looked amused. "Me? Oh, I'm nothing special compared to you. You have such a wonderfully straight-forward Quirk for killing! I'm jealous. Mine's such a bitch to get going in the beginning. I'm not the fastest or the strongest around, and I'm really not much of a thinker. Evading and anticipation is the most important thing, you know. As long as I can stay out of the way, it's only a matter of time before I get what I need; I don't need very much at all! Can you guess? What it is that my Quirk requires? Go on, guess!"

Muscular shook him and screamed. "Just shut the hell up and show me your blood!"

"That's it! You guessed right. Or maybe it was on accident? Hm." He watched Muscular gleefully, his eyes shifting just slightly below Muscular's head and to the left. "Just a little drop, that's all it takes and you're under my curse with no escape."

Muscular's eye widened, following the man's gaze and snapping to the small line of drying blood on his shoulder where the scythe had nicked him. That tiny cut… that's all it took for him to do this? Bullshit! Fucking bullshit! He shook him violently. "You're a fucking hack killer! I could kill you a thousand times over in my sleep, and you call it quits with a papercut?! Bullshit!" Muscular pulled his right arm back, enhanced to the max with full intent to kill.

"Rrraahhhh!" He slammed his fist down and the ground exploded sending plumes of dust in all directions. Muscular crouched close to the man beneath him, his fist buried in the concrete just shy of his head. The man just grinned.

"You missed."

Muscular reared back and thrust his other fist into the ground on the other side of the man's head. His body twisted and he swiped at the terrain with a roar, absolutely livid. He wanted nothing more than to kill him, but he couldn't. Not because Muscular was afraid of dying. Because he couldn't give this man the satisfaction of being the one to kill him with such a cheap trick. But he couldn't kill him either without ending himself, so he turned his frustration on the environment. The man on the ground watched with morbid fascination as Muscular went on a rampage aimed at the abandoned factory facility around them, letting loose the bloodlust that he had denied Muscular. The other criminals, barely an after-thought in the two villains' confrontation, made a full-on retreat from the area on both sides.

Finally, the rumbles stopped, though dust still hung hauntingly in the air. Muscular wheezed, panting heavily and fending off the wet coughs that tried to shake his lungs. He was hunched in the center of the destroyed facility all around. He was a king, a mad beast of power, the undisputed superior force in every way; chained, wounded by trickery, denied his natural right to kill. He locked his gaze on the bastard responsible for it all.

He studied him for a few moments, panting. The man's smile had vanished, a look of awe on his face. Muscular didn't give a shit. He stalked forward, his lips pulling in a bestial grin with renewed vigor. He loomed over his prey and roared.

"I'd sooner cut my own throat then let you have the satisfaction of killing me! You bloody bastard! I'm going to make you give it up! I'll drive us both to the edge of death a thousand times! Anything you can endure, I can endure more! You're going to beg me kill you, and I won't let you have it! Get ready for the most torment you've ever experienced in your fucking worthless trash life! The only way you're going to get out of it is if you abandon your papercut hack and fucking kill me yourself! So bring it! Come at me and kill me for real! I won't accept it any other way!"

Muscular finished, his chest heaving. The man on the ground remained enamored, his eyes wide and jaw slack. His lips pulled back, an excited smile rising to his lips. He rose slowly, not taking his eyes off of Muscular standing before him with a piercing gaze and crazed smile.

"When you got serious, you killed me for real, you know?" His voice was oddly soft. He patted his torso; at his insides, referencing Muscular's very first blow. "I only gave you half of the damage back, though. I wanted to keep you alive. I had a feeling, the look in your eyes; I wanted see what kind of person you would be."

Muscular stilled, sizing him up as he spread his arms and looked up with earnest, eager eyes. "I was right! You're different from other guys. They give up in the face of their mortality. They surrender to their fear. In the end, faced with the reality of death, they lack conviction in their lives. I have to enlighten them to that fact, pick them apart until they scream for just one more day of life! But you already know. You are intent incarnate. Living to kill is all you know."

He picked up his scythe from the ground. "You're right, no hacks. You don't need to be taught a thing… I'll kill you with my own two hands." The blade was pointed at Muscular with a wide-eyed grin. "A worthwhile death is the only one becoming of a killer like you!"

The disgraced fury died out in Muscular's chest as he stared back at him. He could see it now; the true intent in this man's eyes. A wild admiration aimed at himself is what he found. No more taunts and petty tricks. Undeterred by Muscular's display of power, excited and not petrified like prey. A true killer looked back at him. The scythe-wielder swung his blade, and Muscular grinned as he leaped to meet him.

Something shifted in the dynamic between them from that point onward. Not a single word in taunting or threat ghosted their lips, their whole being expressed in their deadly, physical force. They both regained their fierce smiles from the very beginning of the battle, equals in spirit. The scythe-wielder came at him relentlessly, and Muscular rebuked him a thousand times as promised. He held the scythe-wielder face down in the industrial river until his own face went blue, then pulled his head up for them both to gasp for air. He smashed him into a live electrical box and jolted as his own body felt the zap. He pinned his arms down and twisted them until they both snarled from the searing pain of their joints. Muscular let his own bones break just to get the satisfaction of hearing the other man's bones break first. With each strike, his own body's damage increased, but Muscular's grin did not falter as he fought on doing everything short of killing the other man. He would make him submit.

The scythe-wielder was little more than a ragdoll in a dog's mouth in the face of Muscular's relentless bloodlust. And yet, he laughed; an unhinged sound that echoed through the abandoned complex. With every attack, he gave it his all, but Muscular flicked him away like he was a flea. His speed and power were nothing special compared to the man he fought. The only thing he matched him in was killer intent as he sliced at him with scythe and spear a thousand times. He refused to die and miss out on this euphoria.

Their battle was a furious frenzy with nothing held in reserve; anything less would be a deranged, twisted form of disrespect to the killer on the receiving end. The end did not come suddenly with some decisive final blow. It was a slow, crawling crescendo, a ceaseless drumroll of exchanged blows building in furious urgency with the need to kill, to win, to prove their intent to live. In the end, the climb was followed not by a dramatic clash of triumphant sound, but of silence.

Muscular collapsed. The shattered halls of the factory went quiet, devoid of his rumbling assaults. He did not mean to, but the choice was no longer his as his body faltered of its own accord. A thousand blows stack one on top of the next, and his wounded organs couldn't go on. He coughed up blood yet again, his breathing ragged.

The other man watched him from where he sat crumpled in a crater in a wall, his own chest heaving. "Your body's fucking timed out."

"Heh… yeah." Muscular was still smiling, though. "I can't move my limbs. My Quirk's shot, too. Got nothin' left to give… I'm gonna die soon, so get up and do it."

The other man observed him appreciative silence for a few moments, then he smiled. "For as long you're cursed by my Quirk, nothing's set in stone. I'm going to take half of it all back."

"Huh?" Muscular looked up at him in confusion.

Purple eyes looked back at him steadily. "Pain Split."

Muscular went still as an invisible force rippled through his body. Bone mended, bruises cleared up, the aching of his organs decreased, and he could breathe easier. The heavy feeling of his body approaching death pulled back, and he looked down at himself with the realization of his partially-healed injuries.

"Now we both have a shot of surviving," the purple-eyed man said, smiling without any indication of displeasure towards the injuries rippling into existence across his body.

"What? No… No!" Muscular pounded his fist on the dirt and lifted his torso up, sitting on his knees as he glared at the other man. "I don't need your charity!" He thumped his chest. "Kill me! It's what we've been fighting for! Don't back out on me like a piece of shit! Are you for real?! Do what you said you'd do or you're fucking trash!"

"Nah, that's not it." The other man pulled himself up from the wall, quieting Muscular. He approached slowly, gait heavy from his newfound injuries. "Not mercy. Conviction. This world's so devoid of people like you. So many pretenders and takers-for-granted. They need to be reminded of the depths of life. Make them feel it. Make them scream it. At that pinnacle moment of living, let them understand it when you take it all from them."

He stopped in front of Muscular. "Keep living a respectable life. There's nothing I'd like more." And stretched out his hand.

Muscular looked stunned for a few seconds, staring at the hand offered to him. His lips twitched and his jaw closed as his smile returned. "Bastard… don't go getting a bleedin' heart on me or I'll kill you." His hand snapped up, accepting the offer. The purple-eyed man grinned and hauled him to his feet.

Muscular turned away, his intent to kill soothed. This one he wanted to keep alive. Kindred spirits in the act of murder parted ways, returning to their just-barely-remembered employers. But before they left, Muscular paused, shooting a promise over his shoulder.

"… The next time we meet, let's kill something for real."

Purple eyes gleamed. "Yeah!"

"I did it because we're the same… Because the world needs someone like you. Like us… You're an honest killer, through and through."

He pulled the spear away from Muscular's neck and stood up with a jerk, shaking Muscular's fingers loose from his neck.

"Come on, get up already. They're still out there, Greenie and Eraserfuck, and all those brats and heroes. You want to kill them, too, right? You want to run wild."

He held out his hand to him, purple eyes gleaming and earnest.

"Let's run wild together."

Muscular studied the hand from his place on the ground and smiled. He remembered it, now. This man would have never bothered with saving a single person on the planet out of the goodness of his heart. He didn't care. He wasn't generous or even conniving. He was far too simple-minded for that. They were very much the same in that way in their intentions. Muscular took his offered hand with a snarl.

"Let's fucking slaughter them all!"

.

.

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Nobody died again, buuuut obviously that's going to change next time.