---
It was as if in an instant, a painted window shattered, revealing the ugly world behind it. Laughter changed to screams, blood stained the pastel stones, real smoke darkened the special effect stuff made for television.
A second explosion seemed to split the air and left (M/N)'s ears ringing. But he couldn't make out where it came from.
He reached Mashirao first, tried to make sense of the torn flesh, missing limbs, to find something to stem the red flow from his body. Juzo pushed (M/N) aside, wrenching open the first-aid kid. Mashirao clutched (M/N)'s wrist. His face, grey with dying and ash, seemed to be receding. But his next words were an order. "The Holo."
The Holo. (M/N) scrambled around, digging through chunks of tile slick with blood, shuddering when he encountered bits of warm flesh. Found it rammed into a stairwell with one of Mashirao's boots. Retrieved it, wiping it clean with bare hands as he returned it to his commander.
Juzo had the stump of Mashirao's left thigh cupped by some sort of compression bandage, but it had already soaked through. He was trying to tourniquet the other above the existing knee. The rest of the squad had gathered in a protective formation around the crew and them. Denki was attempting to revive Izuku, who was thrown into a wall by the explosion. Ikara was barking into a field communicator, trying unsuccessfully to alert the camp to send medics, but (M/N) knew it was too late. As a child, watching his mother work, he learned that once a pool of blood had reached a certain size, there was no going back.
He knelt beside Mashirao, prepared to repeat the role he played with Wendy, with the morphling from 6, giving him someone to hold on to as he was released from life. But Mashirao had both hands working the Holo. He was typing in a command, pressing his thumb to the screen for print recognition, speaking a string of letters and numbers in response to a prompt. A green shaft of light burst out of the Holo and illuminated his face. He said, "Unfit for command. Transfer of prime security clearance to Squad Four-Five-One Soldier (M/N) (L/N)." It was all he could do to turn the Holo towards (M/N)'s face. "Say your name."
"(M/N) (L/N)," he said into the green shaft. Suddenly, it had him trapped in its light. He couldn't move or even blink as images rapidly flickered before him. Scanning him? Recording him? Blinding him? It vanished, and he shook his head to clear it. "What did you do?"
"Prepare to retreat!" Ikara hollered.
Denki was yelling back, gesturing to the end of the block where they entered. Black, oily matter spouted like a geyser from the street, billowing between the buildings, creating an impenetrable wall of darkness. It seemed to be neither liquid nor gas, mechanical nor natural. It was most likely lethal. There was no heading back the way they came
Deafening gunfire as Shoto and Yui began to blast a path across the stones towards the far end of the block. (M/N) didn't know what they were doing until another bomb, ten metres away, detonated, opening a hole in the street. Then he realised this was a rudimentary attempt at minesweeping. Juzo and (M/N) latched on to Mashirao and began to drag him after Shoto. Agony took over and he was crying out in pain and (M/N) wanted to stop, to find a better way, but the blackness was rising above the buildings, swelling, rolling at them like a wave.
(M/N) was yanked backwards, lost his grip on Mashirao, slammed into the stones. Katsuki looked down at him, gone, mad, flashing back into the land of the hijacked, his gun raised to over (M/N), descending to crush his skull. (M/N) rolled, heard the butt slam into the street, caught the tumble of bodies in the corner of his eye as Kosei tackled Katsuki and pinned him to the ground. But Katsuki, always so powerful and now fuelled by tracker jacker insanity got to his feet under Kosei and launched him further down the block.
There was a loud snap as the pod triggered. Four cables, attached to tracks on the buildings, broke through the stones, dragging up the net that encased Kosei. It made no sense - how instantly bloodied he was - until they saw the barbs sticking from the wire that encased him. (M/N) knew it immediately. It decorated the top of the fence around 12. As (M/N) called to him not to move, he gagged on the smell of the blackness, thick, tarlike. The wave had crested and began to fall.
Shoto and Yui shot through the front door lock of the corner building, then began to fire at the cables holding Kosei's net. Others were restraining Katsuki now. (M/N) lunged back to Mashirao, he and Juzo dragged him inside the apartment, through someone's pink and white velvet living room, down a hallway hung with family photos, on to the marble floor of a kitchen, where they collapsed. Eijiro and Tamaki carried in a writhing Katsuki between them. Somehow Ikara got cuffs on him, but it only made him wilder and they were forced to lock him in a closet.
In the living room, the front door slammed, people shouted. Then footsteps pounded down the hall as the black wave roared past the building. From the kitchen, they could hear the windows groan, shatter. The noxious tar smell permeated the air. Denki carried in Izuku. Yui and Ryuko stumbled into the room after them, coughing.
"Shoto!" (M/N) yelled.
He was there, slamming the kitchen door shut behind him, choking out one word. "Fumes!" Eijiro and Tamaki grabbed towels, aprons to stuff in the cracks as Shoto wretched into a bright yellow sink.
"Kosei?" Juzo asked. Yui just shook her head.
Mashirao forced the Holo into (M/N)'s hand. His lips were moving, but (M/N) couldn't make out what he was saying. He leaned his ear down to catch the harsh whisper. "Don't trust them. Don't go back. Kill Katsuki. Do what you came to do."
(M/N) drew back so he could see his face. "What? Mashirao?" His eyes were still open, but dead. Pressed in (M/N)'s hand, was the Holo.
Katsuki's feet slamming into the closet door broke up the ragged breathing of the others. But even as they listened, his energy seemed to ebb. The kicks diminished to an irregular drumming. Then nothing. (M/N) wondered if he, too, was dead.
"He's gone?" Denki asked, looking down at Mashirao. (M/N) nodded. "We need to get out of here. Now. We just set off a streetful of pods. You can bet they've got us on surveillance tapes."
"Count on it," Eijiro said. "All the streets are covered by surveillance cameras. I bet they set off the black wave manually when they saw us taping the propo."
"Our radio communications went dead almost immediately. Probably an electromagnetic pulse device. But I'll get us back to camp. Give me the Holo." Ikara reached for the unit, but (M/N) clutched it to his chest.
"No. Mashirao gave it to me," (M/N) said.
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. Of course, she thought it was hers. She was second in command.
"It's true," Juzo said. "He transferred the prime security clearance to (M/N) while he was dying. I saw it."
"Why would he do that?" Ikara demanded.
Why indeed? (M/N)'s head was reeling from the ghastly events of the last five minutes - Mashirao mutilated, dying, dead. Katsuki's homicidal rage, Kosei's body bloody and netted and swallowed by that foul black wave. He turned to Mashirao, very badly needing him alive. Suddenly sure that he, and maybe he alone, was completely on (M/N)'s side. He thought of his last orders.
"Don't trust them. Don't go back. Kill Katsuki. Do what you came to do."
What did he mean? Don't trust who? The rebels? Kaina? The people looking at him right now? He wouldn't go back, but Mashirao must have known (M/N) couldn't just fire a bullet through Katsuki's head. Could he? Should he? Did Mashirao guess that what he really came to do was desert and kill Nezu on his own?
(M/N) couldn't work all of it out right now, so he just decided to carry out the first two orders: to not trust anyone and to move deeper into the Capitol. But how could he justify this? Make them let him keep the Holo?
"Because I'm on a special mission for President Kaina. I think Mashirao was the only one who knew about it."
This in no way convinced Ikara. "To do what?"
Why not tell them the truth? It was as plausible as anything he would come up with. But it had to seem like a real mission, not revenge. "To assassinate President Nezu before the loss of life from this war makes our population unsustainable."
"I don't believe you," Ikara said. "As your current commander, I order you to transfer the prime security clearance over to me."
"No," (M/N) said. "That would be a direct violation of President Kaina's orders."
Guns were pointed. Half the squad at Ikara, half at (M/N). Someone was about to die, when Ryuko spoke up. "It's true. That's why we're here. Kan wants it televised. He thinks if we can film the Mockingjay assassinating Nezu, it will end the war."
This gave even Ikara pause. Then she gestured with her gun towards the closet. "And why is he here?"
There she had him. (M/N) couldn't think of any sane reason that Kaina would send an unstable boy, programmed to kill him, along on such a key assignment. It really weakened his story. Ryuko came to his aid again. "Because the two post-Games interviews with Toshinori were shot in President Nezu's personal quarters. Kan thinks Katsuki may be of some use as a guide in a location we have little knowledge of."
(M/N) wanted to ask Ryuko why she was lying for him, why she was fighting for them to go on with his self-appointed mission. Now wasn't the time.
"We have to go," Shoto said. "I'm following (M/N). If you don't want to, head back to camp. But let's move."
Juzo unlocked the closet and heaved an unconscious Katsuki over his shoulder. "Ready."
"Mashirao?" Yui said.
"We can't take him. He'd understand," Denki said. He freed Mashirao's gun from his shoulder and slung the strap over his own. "Lead on, Soldier (L/N)."
(M/N) didn't know how to lead on. He looked at the Holo for directions. It was still activated, but it might as well be dead for all the good that did for (M/N). There was no time for fiddling around with buttons, trying to figure out how to work it. "I don't know how to use this. Mashirao said you would help me," he told Ikara. "He said I could count on you."
Ikara scowled, snatched the Holo from him and tapped in a command. An intersection came up. "If we go out the kitchen door, there's a small courtyard, then the back side of another apartment unit. We're looking at an overview of the four streets that meet at the intersection."
(M/N) tried to get his bearings as he stared at the cross section of the map blinking with pods in every direction. And those were only the pods Kan knew about. The Holo didn't indicate that the block they just left was mined, had the black geyser, or that the net was made from barbed wire. Besides that, there could be Peacekeepers to deal with, now that they knew of the squad's position. (M/N) bit the inside of his lip, feeling everyone's eyes on him. "Put on your masks. We're going out the way we came in."
Instant objections. (M/N) raised his voice over them. "If the wave was that powerful, then it may have triggered and absorbed other pods in our path."
People stopped to consider this. Tamaki made a few quick signs to Eijiro. "It may have disabled the cameras as well," Eijiro translated. "Coated the lenses."
Shoto propped one of his boots on the counter and examined the splatter of black on the toe. Scraped it with a kitchen knife from a block on the counter. "It's not corrosive. I think it was meant to either suffocate or poison us."
"Probably our best shot," Yui said.
Masks went on. Denki adjusted Katsuki's mask over his lifeless face. Ryuko and Yui propped up a woozy Izuku between them.
(M/N) was waiting for someone to take the point position when he remembered that was his job now. He pushed on the kitchen door and was met with no resistance. A centimetre-thick layer of the black goo had spread from the living room about three-quarters of the way down the hall. When (M/N) gingerly tested it with the toe of his boot, he found it had the consistency of gel. He lifted his foot and after stretching slightly, it sprung back into place. He took three steps into the gel and looked back. No footprints. It was the first good thing that had happened all day. The gel became slightly thicker as he crossed the living room. He eased open the front door, expecting gallons of the stuff to pour in, but it held its form.
The pink and orange block seemed to have been dipped in glossy black paint and set out to dry. Paving stones, buildings, even the rooftops were coated in gel. A large teardrop hung from above the street. Two shapes projected from it. A gun barrel and a human hand. Kosei. (M/N) waited on the pavement, staring up at him until the entire group had joined him.
"If anyone needs to go back, for whatever reason, now is the time," (M/N) said. "No questions asked, no hard feelings."
No one seemed inclined to retreat. So (M/N) started moving into the Capitol, knowing they didn't have much time. The gel was deeper as he walked, ten to twelve centimetres, and made a sucking sound each time he picked up his foot, but it still covered their tracks.
The wave must have been enormous, with tremendous power behind it, as it had affected several blocks that laid ahead. And though (M/N) moved with care, he thought his instincts were right about it triggering other pods. One block was sprinkled with the golden bodies of tracker jackers. They must have been set free only to succumb to the fumes. A little further along, an entire apartment building had collapsed and laid in a mound under the gel. (M/N) sprinted across the intersections, holding up a hand for the others to wait while he looked for trouble, but the waves seemed to have dismantled the pods far better than any squad of rebels could.
On the fifth block, he could tell they had reached the point where the wave began to gradually disappear. The gel was only two centimetres deep, and he could see the baby blue rooftops peeking out across the next intersection. The afternoon light had faded, and they badly needed to get under cover and form a plan. He chose an apartment two-thirds of the way down the block. Juzo broke the lock, and everyone hurried inside.
Torches built into their guns illuminated a large living room with mirrored walls that threw their faces back at them at every turn. Shoto checked the windows, which showed no sign of damage, and removed his mask. "It's all right. You can smell it, but it's not too strong."
Ikara had her gun trained on Katsuki even though he was still cuffed and unconscious, draped across a deep-blue sofa where Juzo deposited him. What on earth was (M/N) doing with him? With the crew? With everybody, frankly, besides Shoto and Denki? Because he would rather track down Nezu with those two than without them. But he couldn't lead ten people through the Capitol on a pretend mission, even if he could read the Holo. Maybe he could have sent them back when he had the chance. Or was it too dangerous? Both to them personally and to (M/N)'s mission? Maybe he shouldn't have listened to Mashirao, because he might have been in some delusional death state. Maybe he should just come clean, but then Ikara would take over and they would end up back at camp. Where he would have Kaina to answer to.
Just as the complexity of the mess he had dragged everybody into began to overload his brain, a distant chain of explosions sent a tremor through the room.
"It wasn't close," Ikara assured them. "A good four or five blocks away."
"Where we left Mashirao," Yui said.
Although no one had made a move towards it, the television flared to life, emitting a high-pitched beeping sound, bringing half the party to its feet.
"It's all right!" Ryuko said. "It's just an emergency broadcast. Every Capitol television is automatically activated for it."
There they were on-screen, just after the bomb took out Mashirao. A voice-over told the audience what they were viewing as the on-screen squad tried to regroup, react to the black gel shooting from the street, and lose control of the situation. They watched the chaos that followed until the wave covered the cameras.
The reporter identified Shoto, Denki, Mashirao, Katsuki, Ryuko and (M/N) by name. Coverage continued from the courtyard behind the apartment where they took shelter. Peacekeepers lined the roof across from their former hideout. Shells were launched into the row of apartments, setting off the chain of explosions they heard, and the building collapsed into rubble and dust.
Now they cut to a live feed. A reporter stood on the roof with the Peacekeepers. Behind her, the apartment block burned. Firefighters tried to control the blaze with water hoses. They were pronounced dead.
"Finally, a bit of luck," Juzo said.
He wasn't wrong. It was certainly better than having the Capitol in pursuit of them. But (M/N) kept imagining how the footage would be playing back in 13. Where his mother and Eri, Shoto's family, Kyoka, Shota and a whole lot of people from 13 thought they had just watched them die.
They watched as the footage played over and over. The Capitol basked in their victory, especially over (M/N). They broke away to do a montage of the Mockingjay's rise to rebel power and then went live so a couple of reporters could discuss his well-deserved violent end. Later, they promised, Nezu would make an official statement. The screen faded back to a glow.
"So, now that we're dead, what's our next move?" Shoto asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" No one even knew Katsuki had regained consciousness. (M/N) didn't know how long he had been watching, but by the look of misery on his face, long enough to see what happened on the street. How he went mad, tried to bash (M/N)'s head in and hurled Kosei into the pod.
"Our next move... is to kill me."
---