What happened next was all a blur. Unknown and Aizawa were swept out of the hospital through backchannels and blindly herded into an armored vehicle waiting behind the building. They zipped through the city much faster than possibly could have been allowed, and it didn't take long for Unknown to realize they were deliberately taking winding offroads and tiny dirt paths she had never seen before. They wouldn't answer any of her questions, merely telling her to stay still and do as they say. She didn't know where they were, nor where they were going, nor did she recognize any of the bits of scenery she could glimpse through the small, partially obscured porthole across from her. She didn't know how long they had been driving before the doors finally clamored open and she was once again rushed out.
By the time they were hurried into 1-A's Heights Alliance, the sun was long gone and the sky was pitch black. She had no idea how they could have made it back to UA so quickly, but they gave her little time to ponder before she was being pushed further along into the building, right past a group of startled residents gathered in the common area. Through the wall of policemen surrounding her, despite hardly being able to register anything beyond their barking commands and heavy footsteps, she managed to catch a pair of wide, familiar red eyes for a split second before they too were lost beyond the wall of black.
"Just- what's happening?" Unknown demanded as they ushered her into a hardly-used room deep inside the building. The man in the black suit hovered in the doorway for a moment, exchanging a few inaudible words with one of the armed policemen before quickly shutting the door. The others remained outside.
"When did this happen?" Aizawa asked evenly, although his voice held an uncharacteristic edge to it. She could tell he was as rattled as she was, having suddenly been seized by unfamiliar policemen and driven around in a windowless tank, and now they found themselves somehow back at the school, but why? Why were they here? Why wouldn't they tell them anything?
"Listen carefully, I'm only going to explain this once," the man stated, his steely gaze zeroing in on Unknown, "I work with Chief Tsuragamae, you're familiar with him." It wasn't much of a question, but Unknown nodded anyway. She remembered the dog-chief well. "The Manager escaped from Tartarus an hour ago. Six guards were killed during the breach, and from the looks of it, there was at least one other individual present. The Manager wasn't acting alone; someone on the outside helped him escape."
"If you possibly think I had anything to do with that-"
"We don't. Your whereabouts at the time are accounted for. We had to take you in because we believe the Manager may be coming after you; we're going to keep you safe here, but we also need your help to find him and his accomplice."
Unknown's brows were drawn tightly, leg bouncing restlessly underneath the table as she leaned forward, resting stiffly on her elbows. "What about the others? He could be going after them too, right?"
"My colleagues are watching over them as we speak. They're safe, but we need to capture the Manager as soon as possible to make sure it stays that way."
She ground her teeth anxiously, her mind burning hot with adrenaline at the mere thought of that man being free. Her heart raced so quickly it was almost painful, it felt like her throat might close, like it might tear out of her chest at any moment. "How did this happen? I thought Tararus was supposed to be impenetrable?"
"We're still investigating the details, but right now our priority needs to be finding them, is that clear?"
Unknown frowned at his blatant non-answer, but begrudgingly let it go nonetheless. There was no use pushing him anyway, and he did have a point, as much as she hated to admit it. "...is there anything I can do?" she asked, white-knuckled hands wringing nervously together.
"We believe you can help us identify who the second man is," he stated as he took a seat across from her. "Based on the damage sustained during the breach, we believe this person possesses a sound-based quirk, and surviving footage shows it was a man of medium build, approximately in his twenties." He placed a series of images in front of her, seemingly taken from a security camera. They clearly showed a man running alongside the Manager, but the photos were grainy and indistinct, making it all but impossible to see his face.
"I don't know.... He doesn't look familiar, and I don't know anyone with a quirk like that."
"Try to think. It's possible you've seen or heard something about him before and simply forgot. The Manager's quirk can affect memories, and it's also possible with Amnestica's quirk as well."
"Amnestica never used her quirk on us," Unknown snapped, her brows drawing sharply.
"Would you remember if she did?"
"What's your point? Even if she did, that memory's gone, I wouldn't be able to remember no matter how hard I tried."
"Unknown, you're the best lead we have right now," he stated calmly, slowly, as if speaking to a child, "I understand this is difficult, but I need you to think carefully. It might have been something you overheard once, maybe he was speaking with someone you didn't recognize?"
Unknown grit her teeth as she concentrated, trying to recall anything like what he suggested. "No, I never saw anyone come to the house."
"Perhaps it was a phone call?"
"No, there was nothing like that."
"There must be something, Unknown."
"I'm telling you, whoever that guy is, I've never seen him before. I don't know how the Manager knows him or where they met. He never let us in on the details of anything unless he had to."
"Alright, then let's think of something else. Where would the Manager go at a time like this? Was there anywhere in particular he felt safe? Somewhere he was familiar with?"
"Besides the house? ...I don't know. He would leave sometimes, but he never said where."
"Then what about people he might go to? One of his friends could be hiding him."
"He didn't have any friends, I never saw anyone with him."
"Did he ever talk about anyone you weren't familiar with?"
"The only time he brought up anything like that was when he told us what to do if he was ever captured."
"The instructions to contact a certain phone number, right? What you mentioned in your original statement."
"Yea, but what does that have to do with anything? None of the others had a chance to make that call before they were captured, that was kind of the whole point."
"That might be true, but the person on the other end could have been watching regardless, considering how public the case has been. It's possible they're involved, or at the very least, they might know who is."
"So you've found who the number belongs to?"
"No, unfortunately. The search was a dead end."
"Then what else can we do?" she demanded, growing more agitated by the minute, "I already told you everything I know, this isn't helping! And shouldn't those policemen be out there looking for him? What good are they doing here?!"
"They're here to protect you-"
"I don't need protection! If anything, they should be protecting the other three!"
"The others are safe, there are plenty of guards with them. In order to find the Manager, we need insight, the kind only someone who's extremely familiar with him could have."
"I don't know what you expect from me," she scoffed in exasperation, dropping her head into her hands, "I already told you everything."
The man pressed his lips together as he observed her silently. He noticed the tightness in her jaw, the faint shine of sweat on her brow, the way her expression pinched with agitation. Her posture was rigid and her leg bounced nervously under the table, all in contrast to what he knew, or at least had been told, of her usual demeanor. He decided it might be best to back down for the time being.
"I'll need to step out to make a call to the chief. Please stay put for your own safety. As soon as we hear anything, you'll be the first you know, alright?" he asked evenly.
Unknown sighed, rubbing her forehead harshly, "Yea, ok."
With a nod, the man rose from his seat and promptly retreated toward the door, phone already in hand as the door closed behind him.
Aizawa remained still for a moment in his spot behind Unknown. His eyes shifted down to her hunched form, and even from a distance, he could practically feel the frustration clouding over her. Slowly, he stepped over to the table and shifted the empty chair.
The room was small, completely empty save for the set of chairs and the small table. There were no windows; the only light came from the scattering of overhead bulbs, washing the room in a hard white glow. He hadn't been in here before, though it hadn't been long since the building was constructed, and admittedly, he wasn't quite sure what it was meant to be used for. All that was beside the point, however, as the issue at hand was rather more pressing than a simple forgotten room.
"Are you alright?" he asked, though it wasn't as if he really needed to.
"How did he get out?" Unknown spat through gritted teeth, hands sharply combing through her hair before they rose to cradle her forehead again, "They were supposed to keep him there, that was their only job!"
He remained quiet, only watching as she rubbed at her wrists and clenched her jaw.
"Now he's coming after us... he'll try to take the others first, I know he will. He's not just going to let this go, he wants revenge, he's going to find me too, and then he'll..."
"He's not going to hurt you, he won't come anywhere near this place," Aizawa reassured firmly, "You're safe here. We'll make sure of that."
"You can't stop him. They'll still listen to him, the others, if they still listen to him-"
"They won't. It's been months, the effects of his quirk have long worn off. He has no control over anyone anymore."
"You don't get it," she spat bitterly, hands balling into fists, nails digging into her palms so harshly they nearly broke skin. "Everyone thinks it's just the quirk, like that's the only power he has over us. You think this kind of thing didn't happen before there were quirks? You think you can come out normal after being raised by a monster? People like him don't need special powers, he probably could have done the same thing without a quirk at all. That's just how it is, that's how it's always been. And now he's out and free in the world again, all because the heroes couldn't do the one damn thing they're supposed to be good at!" Unknown sneered in disgust as she pressed the heels of her palms against her brow, trying vigorously to relieve the pounding headache blinding her.
A long moment passed, and Aizawa remained quiet. Heavy, viscous silence bled into the gap where no words arose, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, there was no more noise to be found. No buzzing from the lights, no distant murmurs from outside, no white noise from unseen machines hidden behind doors and walls and people. It was merely complete and utter silence, and although it didn't relieve any pressure from her mind, it was enough of a momentary sanctuary for her to gather herself a bit.
"Sorry," she uttered, quieter now, "...I didn't mean it like that."
Unknown remained with her head in her hands, gaze downcast. She pressed her lips together as the silence dragged on, the creeping of guilt making its way up her spine, invading her senses and sinking in her chest, but it all came to a halt when she felt something come to rest on her head.
"It's alright, there's no need to apologize."
Unknown lifted her gaze, her eyes soon finding the ever-calm expression of the familiar hero.
"We'll find him, and he'll pay for what he's done," he stated, so matter-of-factly that, for a moment, Unknown believed him without the slightest hint of doubt. He ruffled her hair, rising from his seat. "It's getting late. It's cramped in here, but try to get some rest. I'll wake you if anything happens."
"Eraser?"
He paused, glancing back at her just before he reached the door.
Unknown remained quiet for a moment, arms resting atop the table in front of her, hands idle.
"Thank you."
Aizawa turned his attention back to the exit before twisting the knob and pushing the door open, taking a step out into the fluorescent-bright hallway.
"I'll be outside if you need anything."
_______________________________________________
The minutes crawled by agonizingly slow. Unknown tried to take Aizawa's advice, but she couldn't manage to coax herself to sleep no matter how she tried. She was simultaneously exhausted and wide awake, which did no favors for her spiraling thoughts that grew more and more restless with each passing hour, her eyes compulsively flicking to the door every few seconds, waiting for someone, anyone, to walk in with some kind of news.
It must have been nearing midnight now. It remained quiet outside the room, with only the occasional shuffling of footsteps or indecipherable exchange between what must have been the guards. Unknown had sent text messages to Traceback, Amnestica, and Horus asking about their situations, hinging on the off chance they somehow had access to their phones, but her messages remained unanswered. The once-calming silence soon grew too thick to be comfortable: it clogged up her throat and made the air too hot. She lay with her head down on the table, resting atop her half-folded arms; it took all her will to focus on keeping herself contained, to breathe, to forbid her mind from wandering to places she didn't want to go.
It was quiet.
She wondered what the policemen outside were doing. She wondered if they knew what was going on. They must have, most likely, considering how uneasy they were on the way here, they had to understand some bit of what was happening. She wondered if the man in the suit was still speaking to his colleagues, as he called them. He must be in contact with the teams guarding the other three; she wondered if anything had happened since he stepped out. Maybe he was speaking with the chief, she thought, someone important, someone who had power and could put a stop to this. She hoped they would put a stop to this.
She wondered if the students knew what was happening, if someone had told them yet. It must have been disconcerting to see her rush in so abruptly with all those policemen. She wasn't sure if the situation was being kept quiet, if Aizawa was allowed to tell them about it, but she had a feeling he would either way. She wondered if the public knew too. Maybe the Hero Commission had made an announcement, perhaps warning everyone to be cautious and report any sightings of him, or maybe they opted instead to keep it a secret, believing it would cause too much panic and unrest. Maybe they were counting on finding him before such an announcement was necessary: she certainly hoped that would be the case.
Everything seemed to be uncertain at the moment, undecided, in limbo, but in the end, there was one thing she was certain of. She knew that regardless of who was or was not aware of the situation, regardless of how much they may or may not have been told, they all had one thing in common: none of them really knew what the Manager was capable of. They might have read the news or heard some stories or witnessed some things from the sidelines, but none of them would ever be able to fully understand what he did to them. She wasn't ignorant, she knew the kinds of things people said about her. People were sympathetic, they felt for her, they spoke kind words, but ultimately, they all believed she was lucky. Lucky to escape his grasp, lucky to come out alive, lucky that "it wasn't as bad as it could have been."
She lived in that house for almost ten years, she lived with that man for almost ten years, and never once had he laid a hand on her. She assumed that was what they meant when they said she was lucky; he had never hurt her, so it couldn't have been that bad, right?
But people like the Manager don't need to hit or kick or beat the people they hurt, because hurt isn't merely in blood and bruises. Hurt can be passive and quiet, it can come slowly, a little bit at a time. It can come with words, pouring from the mouth of someone who was meant to protect you. It can plaster itself to your mind without a sound, it can eat away at your sleep and your joy and your life, until one day you find it's no longer separate from you, that it's become indistinguishable from yourself, and you can no longer tear it off without taking your flesh with it.
Unknown lived every day of her life plagued by her own memories, filled with bitterness and resentment and hurt because of everything the Manager had done, and she didn't have a single scar to show for it.
Unknown didn't consider herself lucky, she didn't believe merely being alive was enough of a reason for gratitude. Perhaps she was jaded, ungrateful, nihilistic, whatever you like to call it, but she still continued on, even now. She didn't know why exactly: maybe because it was the path of least resistance, maybe because she didn't know any other way, or maybe she did it purely out of spite, but the reason itself didn't matter much to her. She was certainly no philosopher, she didn't know much of anything, really, but she did know her restlessness now was yet another symptom of his doing, and regardless of anything else, she refused to let him win.
_______________________________________________
Eventually, Unknown began to doze off, having successfully lured herself into thoughtlessness long enough for her mind to begin to drift. She hovered in between lucidity and unconsciousness, floating in that limbo of blurry, semi-weightless matter.
Unknown opened her eyes to see... nothing in particular. It wasn't as if there was nothing there; on the contrary, there were plenty of things before her, but she couldn't recognize any of them. With the fuzziness and un-clarity of the scene, she quickly understood she was dreaming; she must have managed to fall asleep somewhere along the line. Quite impressive, she thought. Before she could congratulate herself any further, however, she noticed two figures in the scene before her. They hadn't walked in, nor had they suddenly appeared, but rather they had always been there, she just couldn't see them until now. Things became a bit clearer as she looked at the figures.
The two were sitting... somewhere. It was still a bit fuzzy, admittedly. They sat side-by-side, their posture relaxed, comfortable, and they were speaking to each other. She could hear what they were saying, but she couldn't understand it, although for some reason, this didn't quite bother her. She could see their faces too; she knew them, she knew she did, but she couldn't remember how. She could see one of them was laughing, smiling brightly while playfully prodding at the other. The other figure seemed rather less animated but made no move to stop it. The first wrapped their arms around the second, leaning in happily as they continued to speak. And they spoke and spoke for what felt like a long, long time. Unknown remembered thinking it was quite sweet, the way they leaned against each other so comfortably, and the faint nagging in the back of her mind telling her she should remember grew strangely louder. Her eyes remained fixed on the pair, she found herself unable to look away. It was... nice. She felt like she could fall asleep like this.
She chuckled at the thought.
And next thing she knew, she was blinking groggily, her neck aching, rather stiff as she slowly lifted her head off the table. For a bit, the post-waking haze numbed her thoughts and blurred her mind, and in that brief moment, nothing was wrong. Everything was as it should be, and she was quite peaceful.
It didn't take long for the false reality to come crashing down, however, as soon as she remembered the situation at hand, and that momentary contentment was harshly torn away. Looking around, she found herself still alone in that dull little room. Stretching her neck from side to side, she breathed a short sigh. She glanced down at her phone to see only a few minutes had passed, quite in contrast to how long that hazy dream had felt.
She once more remained quietly in her seat, staring off at nothing in particular as she felt the long minutes tick by. Slowly, it dawned on her that she could hear a faint noise coming from outside the room; it sounded like voices, like people speaking. It was too muffled for her to make out the exact words, but they sounded grim, perhaps unsurprisingly. She shifted in worried anticipation as she listened to their distant, indistinct chatter, her hands growing restless as she wondered if there had been some new development.
The sudden clatter of the door opening caught her off guard, her head snapping up just in time to see a figure walk in. Where she was expecting to see the previous stranger who had spoken to her, there instead stood a more familiar dog-faced man.
"Unknown," the police chief greeted with a nod, his tone unusually hard.
Her stomach shifted in discomfort at his demeanor. "Did something happen? Why are you here?" she questioned as evenly as she could manage.
His following silence did little to reassure her. He stepped forward and took a seat across from her, setting down a recording device. She glanced down at it in confusion, then back up at him.
"What's that for?"
Again, he remained silent for a moment before speaking, his expression grim. "I'm going to ask you some questions, it's important you answer honestly, alright?"
Unknown frowned questioningly at him, searching his face for any clues as to what exactly was going on, but nodded nonetheless.
"Good," he pressed the 'record' button on the device and a small green LED blinked to life, "What do you know about the man who helped the Manager escape from Tartarus?"
"What?" she blinked, brows furrowing at the question, "I already said I don't know who he is. Didn't they tell you?"
"Do you remember anything about him? It may have been a long time ago."
"I've never seen him before, I already told you. What's this about? Did something happen?"
The chief paused, seeming to hesitate for a long moment before taking something out of his pocket and placing it in front of her. She glanced down to see it was a small picture of an unfamiliar boy, maybe five years old or so. The picture was noticeably faded, its surface littered with tiny scratches and its corners yellowed with age.
"Does the name Amplify mean anything to you?"
"Amplify? No, why would it?"
"That was what the Manager called this boy," he stated, nodding at the photograph. "He was very young when the Manager took him, his quirk allowed him to create sound waves with his footsteps. The Manager kept him for a long time, then eight years ago, he disappeared from the records."
"What?" she interjected with a bewildered frown, "What records? What are you talking about?"
The chief let out a quiet breath.
"The night we captured Sacrosanct, when my men searched the house in the woods, they found something... important."
...
"There's something you need to see."
The lead officer raised a questioning eyebrow at his colleague, slipping his phone back into his pocket, "What is it?"
The other man gestured for him to follow as he turned towards the far room. They could already see a number of their police photographers crowded around something, cameras angled down and flashing with every snap. The officer caught their attention, gesturing for them to step aside for a moment as the pair approached.
Laying on the small table was a binder of sorts, some kind of photo album. The cover had already been flipped open, and looking up at them from behind the thin, transparent plastic film were two photographs, each of a child no older than ten. They were taken from a distance: candid shots of subjects who were clearly oblivious to the camera pointed at them. The first was of a little boy with curly brown hair; he was outside, huddled against the wall of an unseen building, and he seemed to be crying about something. The second was a little girl, tiny pigtails on either side of her dust-streaked face as she held an old rubber ball in her hands, smiling softly at someone out of frame.
The lead officer squinted in confusion at the young faces in the pictures. He didn't recognize either of them- they didn't look like any of the Sacrosanct children- but something shifted uncomfortably in his gut.
Whatever this was, it couldn't be good. Not in this place. And he soon found himself proven correct as the other man flipped the page.
A number of things became apparent all at once; first, the backs of the first two images were revealed, as was the small lettering scrawled across their surfaces. They appeared to be notes about the children in the pictures, but most of it was incomprehensible: strings of letters making up nonsense words and unreadable phrases. It appeared to be some type of code, likely intended to be indecipherable to everyone but its writer, but among the jumble, there remained a few words they could recognize.
'Heat'
'Wood'
But what did these mean?
Looking on for more clues, they saw on the other side of the binder were two more pictures of two more children. They were around the same age as the previous pair, maybe a few years apart at most, and were unfamiliar to the officers as well. It showed two boys this time, the first walking toward an entrance of a small, worn building among a number of other children, and the second sitting curled underneath an awning of an abandoned storefront.
Flipping over that page, they saw there was writing on the backs as well, and once again there were only a few words they could understand.
'Keratin'
'Rats'
As they flipped to the next page, then the next, then the next, then the next, their dread only multiplied with each passing, nameless face. Who were these children? Were they past victims of the Manager? Had he taken all of them? Some of them? Certainly someone would have noticed if this many children simply disappeared, right? How could he have possibly found so many?
Then, as they reached the last few pages, two more children coming into view, the mystery came crashing down.
The first was a little girl with short, unruly black hair, sitting on the ground next to an old swing set, clutching a little plush kitten in her arms as she stared off into the distance. The second was of a blonde girl, seemingly a bit older than the other, sleeping against a wooden fence, some other children visible as they played in the background.
Slowly flipping over the page, they read the writing on the back.
'Pressure'
'Memory'
...
"Based on our analysis, we were able to decode some of the notes on the pictures. For most of them, it seems he included descriptions of their quirk, the name he gave them, and notes on their development. This boy," he nodded toward the photograph on the table, "was the fifth one in the binder. We analyzed the ink and found that notes about his behavior were consistently added until about eight years ago, then it suddenly stopped. Considering the age of the photo and how old the boy appears to be, he would be well into his twenties by now, just like the man we saw in the security footage. The quirk seems to be a match as well, which is why we believe this boy is the man who helped the Manager escape."
Unknown stared down at the picture, brows drawn, lips pressed together, hands curled into fists in her lap. She remained silent.
"Where is it?" she finally spoke, voice unusually small.
"Excuse me?"
"The pictures, where are they? I want to see them."
"This isn't the time for that, Unknown. Right now, we need your help to find these men."
"That can't be right..." she muttered to herself, shaking her head almost imperceptibly, "It's not possible."
"What isn't possible?"
"It... all of it. I was there eight years ago, he wasn't. I would have remembered if I saw him before," she insisted. Something was clearly agitating her, evident in the way her hands wrung together involuntarily. "No, that's right, I would have remembered... You've gotten something wrong."
"It was a long time ago, Unknown, and you were young back then. Combined with the Manager's influence, it would be more unusual if you did remember-"
"Stop! I would have remembered! I remember all of them! I would... I would remember," she shook her head, scratching harshly at her scalp, breath becoming increasingly ragged. Suddenly, her eyes snapped back up to him. "Where are the other pictures? The rest of them, I want to see them. I'll recognize the ones who were there before."
"Unknown, this isn't the-"
"Let me see them!"
The chief stared silently down at her as she breathed heavily, chest heaving too much to be normal, eyes wide with a frustrated, raging glint in them. A frown pinched heavy between his brows.
He let out a shallow breath.
"The Manager has taken Amnestica and Horus."
_______________________________________________
It took four guards to stop Unknown from storming out of the building. She blitzed past them for only a split second before they caught her, and she showed no hesitation in ramming an elbow into one man's nose as she shoved away the other hands grabbing at her. The unlucky officer recoiled from the tangle, cradling his leaking nose, drops of red splattering to the ground as the remaining guards restrained her, catching her arms and forcing them still. Despite how she struggled and swung and cursed at them, they merely scrunched their faces, grip tightening as they dragged her back into that little room.
The commotion drew Aizawa's attention from where he sat around the corner. His head snapped up upon hearing the chorus of shouts, and he instinctively rose to his feet, hurrying toward the source of the disturbance. He rounded the corner just in time to see a number of guards retreat from the room, quickly stepping out and shutting the door, muffling the shouts still emanating from behind them. It only took a moment for him to recognize the voice as Unknown. The guards, still visibly unsettled by the situation, informed him of what had happened.
Aizawa frowned at the news of the other children's capture, quickly moving to reach for the doorknob before he was promptly stopped by one of the guards. The chief was still questioning Unknown, the man told him; he would have to wait until they were finished.
And he did wait. He waited for hours with only the sounds of yelling and striking tables to fill the stiff atmosphere, all clearly from a single voice. The guards were uncomfortable, some more noticeably than others, as they tried to stay attentive, steeling their nerves and focusing on anything but the unsettling clamor just a wall away. The commotion must have alerted the overhead occupants as well, as a group of worried students soon flocked downstairs to see what was happening. News of the police presence had spread quickly, despite it being long past curfew, and the implications of Unknown being with them only made it more disconcerting. Aizawa could only reassure them that everything was fine, having earlier been warned about the highly confidential nature of the situation at hand, and sent them back up to their rooms. They hesitated, exchanging doubtful glances amongst themselves, but complied nonetheless, their concern uneased as they reluctantly withdrew back upstairs, the muffled uproar echoing persistently behind them.
As the minutes crawled by, the noises gradually became quieter. The shouts dissolved, the clanging stopped, the voices faded. Eventually, it stopped entirely, and silence once more filled the dry, empty corridors.
Finally, after another long while of waning patience, the door to the makeshift interrogation room finally opened. The chief stepped out, his expression ever-serious as his eyes found Aizawa's. He motioned toward the room behind him.
Aizawa stepped into the silent room, the only noise being that of the soft click of the door closing behind him. His gaze fell on Unknown; she was still in the same seat, head down on the table, resting atop one arm while the other folded carelessly behind her head, almost as if to shield herself. She remained still, even as his footsteps padded nearer, even as he pulled out the only other chair and sat across from her. If he didn't know any better, he might have thought she was asleep.
They both remained quiet for a long while, only emptiness between them. No sound from outside could be heard here, if there was ever any to begin with.
"They're gone," she uttered, voice flat. "He took them."
"We'll find them. We'll get them back."
She breathed out, shoulders dropping ever lower. Without lifting her head, she reached over to pick up her phone, placing the luminous screen in front of him. Aizawa glanced down at the device, or rather, at the text messages displayed on its face. At the very top, he found the two most recent messages were, surprisingly, from Amnestica and Horus. They were short, simple, but as his eyes scanned over the brief messages, he couldn't help the uncomfortable feeling skittering down the back of his neck.
'1/4'
And half an hour later,
'2/4'
These messages... weren't sent by the other children. The Manager was taunting her.
"He didn't get to them by himself."
Aizawa glanced up at her, his expression tight. He saw she hadn't moved a muscle, remaining face down and idle in her seat.
"We know he has help from the second man in the security footage," he stated, unsure as to exactly what she meant.
"There's more. I don't know who they are, but there's more."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I know him!" she slammed a fist against the table as she snapped up, eyes ablaze and teeth bared, scowling at him as if he was the most wretched thing she had ever seen, "I knew he was going to do this, I knew this was going to happen, and I tried to tell you but no one would fucking listen to me! Now he has them! He has exactly what he wants, all thanks to you heroes! For how fucking many of you there are, you sure never seem to make a difference, huh? Going around flashing your shiny quirks and acting like you're invincible, like you're going to save the world, but you only ever care about your world, because anyone that doesn't fit into your delusional little hero society just isn't good enough for you to protect, right? You pick and choose who you fight for and throw away the leftovers, so you tell me why I should trust a damn thing you say?!" Unknown breathed heavily, eyes wild, jaw clenched, hands curled into fists. She had risen to her feet at some point, half-registering that she was now leaning over the table, chair shoved away behind her. She could hardly see anything beyond the flashing white spots maring her vision, which must have been why the sudden feeling of something touching her shoulder made her instinctively jolt away. She blinked quickly, clearing the blots from her eyes, and her vision soon returned to her.
Aizawa stood there before her, his gaze sympathetic. If he was fazed by her biting words, he didn't show it.
"Nothing's been fair on you," he spoke evenly, voice soft, "but you've trusted us up to this point. Keep that faith a little longer. We'll find him."
Unknown grit her teeth, shoving his arm away. "I don't need your pity," she spat, dragging her seat forward and sitting back down. She folded her arms atop the table and lay her head down once more, the fatigue finally creeping up on her.
_______________________________________________
Try as she might, however, sleep would never come. It must have been awfully late, or early, rather, though she couldn't tell from here. Time seemed to reduce to a viscous flow, she couldn't remember how long she had been like this; her mind ran too quickly with too many thoughts, and it was exhausting. Aizawa had left the room at some point, though she again couldn't remember when, leaving her alone in that strange place where reality seemed somehow altered.
She vaguely wondered if Horus and Amnestica were alright, if they were once more doing as the Manager commanded. Where were they now? Where could he have taken them? She wondered if Traceback knew about it, if they had told her, if she was ok or if she was scared.
Unknown wondered if she herself was scared, but she couldn't remember.
Unknown could no longer be certain of any of her memories. That picture they showed her, that boy she had never seen before, could he really have been one of the other children? Had he really been there at the same time as her?
But why didn't she remember?
And what of the other children in that book they found? Where were they now? He couldn't possibly have taken so many, right? Was that little girl in there too? She wanted to see that book, but why wouldn't they let her?
The chief, the guards, the heroes...
Could the heroes really find him in time?
She couldn't be certain anymore.
_______________________________________________
Time passed, but exactly how much was a mystery to her. Unknown sat quietly in that little room, a distant stare cast to an empty corner. A few times, she thought she heard the door open, but when she looked up, no one was there. She thought she heard voices too, but they always disappeared too quickly to catch.
She had been trying to remember more about her past: those long-ago memories that may or may not have ever really existed. She tried, but she couldn't focus. She couldn't focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time, they simply escaped her mind. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was a symptom of something deeper, but Unknown found herself submerged neck-deep in that strange gap between thoughtlessness and sleep where neither would really come to her. She felt almost weightless when she didn't move, but when she did, she found her limbs static and heavy.
She heard the door open. Her eyes rose, some still-functioning part of her mind hoping for any kind of good news, yet she was met with only a closed door.
No one was there.
_______________________________________________
With no small amount of effort, old, faded memories slowly began resurfacing, though they only came in fragments. She couldn't be sure if they were real or if she had merely conjured them up in her desperation to recall some forgotten past. Maybe it didn't matter either way; they were far too disjointed to make sense of. They couldn't have offered any useful information anyway.
By now, the stress had thoroughly seeped into her mind. Unknown could hear voices of people that weren't there, she could feel sensations that weren't real, and at times, puddles of transient color leaked into her vision to the point where she could no longer see her hands in front of her. None of this bothered her as much as it should have, however. She was too tired, too heavy, too caught up in her ever-slowing thoughts to think rationally. The room was too warm, yet chills ran freely up and down her spine.
She heard the door open, but she didn't bother to look up.
_______________________________________________
"This isn't a good idea."
"It's the only choice we have. We're running out of time to catch this guy before he causes any more damage than he already has. "
"People aren't easy to predict, especially in a situation like this. She could react poorly and that would be another mess on our hands."
"This case has changed. It's no longer limited to just those four he's after; now that the Manager's attacked an orphanage and taken one of the children, thousands more are at risk of becoming his victims as well. The whole country is in danger, and we can't let this continue. The key is in her memories, whether she realizes it or not. If we can get her to recover some of the memories she's lost, it could tell us something crucial about where the Manager is or who's helping him. Our consultant has the perfect quirk for this, we cannot simply let this chance slip by."
"Even if it works, it could also destabilize her. She reacted violently to the news about the other two's capture, and learning of the book we found nearly caused a meltdown; who knows what other kinds of things are buried in her mind? I believe we've learned all we can from her, it would be dangerous to push her any further."
"Then talk to her about it. Warn her of the effects that memory recovery can have, and let the consultant talk to her too. He has experience with cases like these."
"And what if she doesn't agree to it?"
"Our job is to save lives, chief, to protect innocent people. It's a risk, but this is the only way. We have to stop this man before he hurts anyone else."
_______________________________________________
The door opened with a faint click, but Unknown didn't move from her seat. She remained still, hunched slightly in her chair, hands in her lap, idly staring down at the table as the chief stepped into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He observed her for a moment before clearing his throat.
Unknown's eyes slowly drew up, her distant gaze finally meeting his.
"There's been an important development in our situation. An orphanage in the city where Amnestica and Horus were being hospitalized has been attacked. Many of the children and staff there have been injured and have sustained severe damage to their hearing, and a young boy has gone missing. Based on eyewitness testimony, we believe the man who assisted the Manager is responsible for taking the boy, presumably under the Manager's instruction. The good news, however, is that we've found someone who may be able to help you recover your lost memories. His quirk could help make your current memories clearer as well, and that could give us valuable information on how to find the Manager. It may seem frightening, but his quirk will cause you no harm. He's helped many people affected by memory-erasing quirks before. We've brought him in, and we'd like to have him speak to you a bit more about what it may be like when you regain your memories. Though I'm sure you're aware, time is of the essence here. We need to hurry in order to have the best chance of- "
"Why should I help you?"
The chief paused, glancing down at her in surprise. Unknown's gaze was already angled up, eyes blank, expression flat. Her stare bored into him: cold, empty, almost unnerving.
"This could help us find the Manager," he spoke after a momentary pause, puzzled in stating what she certainly already knew, "and rescue the other two children as well as the one he just took. This is important in leading us to them."
"Why are you so worried about that boy?"
The chief raised a questioning eyebrow, an unusual feeling settling in his stomach. It took a moment for him to confirm he heard her correctly. "That child is innocent, Unknown, he has nothing to do with any of this," he stated slowly, eyes carefully scanning her expression in an attempt to gauge what she meant. "You want to help us find him, don't you?"
"Why do you care about him so much? He's an orphan, he doesn't matter. No one's going to miss him, so why are you trying so hard?"
"Unknown, he's... a child, a civilian. He doesn't need to be caught up in this."
"I was a child too. I was a civilian too. What's so special about him? He's been gone for... what? A few hours?" Unknown narrowed her eyes, tilted her head, almost as if she genuinely couldn't understand his words. "I was gone for ten years and no one ever looked for me."
"Unknown, there's no way we could have-"
"I'm done helping you."
She remained silent after that. Regardless of how the chief tried, he couldn't convince her to go through with the memory recovery, nor could he coax any more words out of her at all. He was growing impatient, knowing they were in a race against time and the only chance they had at saving those children was now refusing to talk to them. After a few long, agonizing minutes of fruitless prodding, he sighed tiredly. This was a dead end. They wouldn't get anywhere like this; they would have to go about it a different way.
The dog-chief stepped out of the room, his eyes quickly scanning up and down the hallway, seemingly looking for someone. Exchanging a few words with the guards, he headed toward the front of the building. Quickly making his way out of the back halls and into the common area, he found it was silent and empty; empty, that is, save for a lone figure seated quietly on one of the couches, separated far from everyone else.
The chief sat down across from him as the hero's attention shifted up. He paused momentarily before speaking.
"We need your consent to use the memory restoration quirk on her."
Aizawa stared at him questioningly, raising a puzzled eyebrow. "She didn't agree to it?"
"No. She's no longer cooperating."
"What do you mean?"
"She's not speaking to us anymore. Without her help, it's going to be nearly impossible to find that man. By law, you're her guardian at the moment; if you agree to this, our consultant will be able to use his quirk to bring back some of her lost memories. It could lead us right to him."
"I'm not sure I understand; she wouldn't just stop cooperating. She wants to find the Manager more than anyone."
"I suppose her emotions got the better of her. It's not all too surprising, unfortunately, but we can still continue with your permission."
"How did she react to the news of Traceback's capture?"
"I didn't tell her."
"Excuse me?"
"After last time, it was already clear she was becoming unstable; there was no reason to put more stress on her. Besides, it wouldn't have made a difference; she's stopped cooperating regardless."
Aizawa frowned, brows drawing together in confusion.
It... didn't make sense.
Unknown hated the Manager, she wanted to find him more than anything. She knew Amnestica and Horus had already been captured, and even without knowing the same had happened to Traceback, there was no way she would just give up knowing they were back in his hands, right? She had gone to extraordinary lengths to ensure their safety the first time- it was obvious she cared about them greatly despite her usually indifferent demeanor- so why would she just change her mind all of a sudden? She was under an immense amount of stress, yes, but Aizawa had always known her to be calculative and rational. In what limited time he had with her, she never acted without reason; she was clever, smart enough to stand with the best of them. Even under pressure, she was always plotting, always thinking, always looking for ways to get what she wanted. Yet nothing about this was smart or rational. She had no reason to stop helping them now of all times; he expected her to jump at the chance to bring back her lost memories. Of course, the uncertainty of what they might uncover was undeniably worrisome, but if there was one thing he knew without a shadow of a doubt, it was that Unknown would stop at nothing to bring down the Manager.
...something was off.
"Let me speak to her," he stated, quickly rising to his feet. An uncomfortable feeling shifted in his stomach. Something about this didn't sit well with him.
"If you can convince her to agree, it would be much appreciated; however, please keep in mind what's at stake here. We're risking lives every minute we remain idle," the chief breathed grimly, rising to his feet and motioning for the other man to follow.
The two briskly made their way back into the deeper parts of the building, the air dry and stagnant in their lungs. They quickly arrived at their destination, yet when they turned the knob and pushed open the little door, they found the room behind it empty.
The chief frowned, turning to one of the nearby guards. "Where did the girl go?" he demanded, nodding towards the once-occupied seat.
"She went to the bathroom, sir."
"How long ago?"
"Right after you left. It's been..." the man looked down at his watch, his brows slowly drawing into a confused frown, "...fifteen minutes."
_______________________________________________
What followed was a calamitous search of the entire Heights Alliance building. They combed up and down, front and back, practically turning the place inside out in search of Unknown. They searched the upper floors, barking orders to clear every room as guards flooded the halls, banging harshly on each door, shouting all the while for the students to come out.
"What's going on?" Uraraka asked in a half-awake panic as two policemen pushed by her, weapons raised as they scanned over her room. She spun around to see there were more of them rushing past her as well, indistinct shouts ringing through the air, coming from around and above and below her, so jarring it made her head spin. "W-what's happening?" she demanded, frantically glancing around at the men now retreating from her room, all but deaf to her confusion. Through the disorientating chaos of racing bodies and ringing ears, Uraraka managed to catch a glimpse of Aizawa somewhere among them.
"Mr. Aizawa! Sir!" she called, hurriedly running toward him as she gracelessly ducked and dodged to avoid crashing into any guards, somehow managing to reach him without incident, "W-what's going on? Why are they searching the building? Did something happen?"
"Mr. Aizawa! What's happening?!" another startled voice called out from among the chaos.
Uraraka looked up to see Kirishima and Shoji rushing toward them from the opposite hall, apparently equally as baffled as they frantically glanced around at the sudden takeover of their building. She saw Tsuyu emerge from her room down the hall as well, eyes round with confusion before they quickly landed on her own.
"What are they doing, ribbit?" she asked uneasily upon reaching the small group.
"Yea, what's going-?"
"What in the world-"
"What are they looking-?"
"Listen," Aizawa interrupted grimly before they could question him all at once. "It seems Unknown has escaped from the building. This is serious, I need you all to go back to your rooms and stay put."
"What do you mean she escaped?" Uraraka asked, eyes widening with concern, "Where did she go?"
"We don't know," he shook his head. It was only a half-truth. He might not have known exactly where she was going, but he had no doubt about who she was going after. She must have known something they didn't, she must have been keeping something from them; that's why she stopped cooperating.
But how? She was too sincere to have been lying to them the whole time, that much he was sure of. Whatever it was, she must have realized it recently, within the last few minutes, right before her change in behavior. But what could it have possibly been? She couldn't have overheard them earlier: she was likely gone before the chief even sat down across from him, and none of the guards would have leaked any information to her-
"Did she disappear about fifteen minutes ago?" Kirishima asked abruptly, drawing everyone's attention to him.
Aizawa blinked, narrowing his eyes questioningly, "How did you know that?"
"I saw Bakugo run out of his room about then," he frowned as the uncomfortable connection formed in his mind, "I tried to ask where he was going, but I don't think he heard me. He... really seemed like he was in a hurry."
"What?" Uraraka gaped, "He... he couldn't have gone after her, right?"
"Wouldn't Mr. Aizawa have seen him if he left the building?"
But by the time they glanced back at the hero, he was already long gone, hurrying back downstairs to inform the others of yet another concerning development to add to their list.
Hurrying down the echoing stairwell at an uncharacteristically quick pace, Aizawa rushed past streams of guards still scurrying about, sweeping the building for clues he knew they wouldn't find. He soon landed on the ground floor and quickly made his way toward where he had last seen the chief. On his way, however, he paused.
Aizawa backed up a few steps, his eyes drawing toward the little room to his left. The guards who had been surrounding the room had dispersed to search the building, leaving the hallway all but vacant, and the door remained wide open as they had left it. His attention fell to a small, lone something on the table. Stepping into the vacant room, he moved closer, picking up the object.
It was her phone. Unknown must have left it behind, purposefully or not, though he leaned towards the former. She must have abandoned it so they wouldn't be able to track her. The Commission had gone through her phone before, meaning it likely wasn't of any more use to them, but maybe they would get lucky and find something of note. It was worth a try at least, he reasoned with a sigh. Aizawa was about to turn around, intending to find the chief and hand it over, but something made him hesitate.
He remained still for a moment, glancing back down at the device. He pressed the power button, and it was a split second before the screen lit up in response. He typed in the password he had seen her entering once, and the lock screen flicked away, quickly replaced by the most recently used application.
A grimace spread on his lips as he scanned over the familiar "messages" screen. It was the same one he had seen earlier that night, save for one new message at the very top of the list.
Traceback (2:10 AM):
3/4
The sounds of rushed footsteps echoed from somewhere nearby, followed by some indistinct voices, just far away enough to be unintelligible. They must still be searching, but Aizawa knew they wouldn't find anything. Unknown was long gone. There was no shortage of ways she could have escaped from the building; if she had gotten out without anyone noticing, that meant Bakugo could have as well. Now there was no way to tell which direction they went in nor where they were going; whatever insight they might have had was long gone.
Their problems had just tripled, it seemed.
A sadistic villain, escaped from the world's most secure prison, with at least three hostages and an undetermined number of allies, roaming freely in the populous city.
An unstable child with a massively destructive quirk, sleep-deprived, barely containing years of pent-up rage, and hell-bent on revenge.
And a student-hero with explosive tendencies and personality problems, troubled by the recent past, and likely not thinking straight.
There was no guarantee the heroes would be able to find them in time, and as the sky grew darker, as the night grew ever-deeper, the race was on.