The Hunter and the Hunted

[All Might]

Previously on All Might: A Promise of All Might post # 5

The Hunter and the Hunted.

There are bodies in the streets of Coruscant, and its getting worse every day. There is a cloud of paranoia and suspicion at every turn. The police are helpless, the criminals are tense, and families huddle in their houses in fear.

A serial killer is on the loose.

Quest stipulations: Track down and defeat the killer in Tier 5. Either turn the killer into the police for the reward 'Increased Renown among Coruscant Citizens' OR kill him to get the reward 'Increased Fear among the Coruscant Underworld'

It had all started that night she had gone out with a few others to have some fun. To get the thrill of putting people on lower Tiers in their place. A boy she knew from school, he was part of "The Board of Directors". A group of upper-Tier denizens who want the ultimate thrill: Fighting for their lives and putting down peasants. You had to be upper-crust to join, you had to have good family, good money, you had to bring your own weapons, and they had to be posh. 

At their school, all the 'coolest' people were members. They gossiped about it, whispering about their excitement-filled nights of brutal violence. It was a break from the stresses of classes, of training, of the standards of behavior of the upper tiers, a break from the cleanliness and orderliness of it all. She had heard two upperclassmen whispering to each other about a prostitute they had cut up. Or a homeless man they had made into a cripple. 

Stormtroopers weren't watching, to make sure you tied your shoes and said your prayers and never badmouthed the emperor. And sure, she didn't have anything against the emperor, but she, all people, got the craving for some genuine... freedom, once in a while. The lower tiers gave you that. 

The Directors gave you that, and they gave it to you in a safe way. Apparently, on Tier Five, gangs stayed away from Directors, because when you messed with one, you messed with them all. And on Tier Four, most gangster would open their doors- they knew that Directors were there to have fun, and the facilities on Tier Four were always open, to those who had the cash and the manpower. On Tier Six, people would just run. Nobody goes to Tier Seven. That would just get your suits dirty. 

The boy took a small group of interested fellow students, and they took the elevator down to Tier Four. 

She had been so excited. She would finally find out what all the fuss was about! It was already thrilling enough- sneaking down to Tier Four without adult supervision had been the most exciting thing she had done yet. She had even filched one of her father's bottles of faerie-brewed golden white whine imported illegally from Camelot. She had been told that a single bottle was worth quite a bit of Omnilium. 

And then, when they were just about to dawn their masks, and go and find a petty thief, or a homeless drunk, or just some unlucky lower-Tier filth, or a prostitute or something, and prove that they had the nerves and the bloodlust to be a part of the Directors for real...

Then that man appeared. 

Like the devil. He came, offering temptation, offering power. 


[spoiler]

Symbol Power - Tri-Fire Orbs (600 OM, Ranged Proficiency, Debuff Proficiency, Remote Control Proficiency, Area Attack): 


One of the symbol power attacks that is made possible by the possession of the Samuraizer. This creates three tennis ball sized orbs of fire but each possesses the equivalent power to a land mine when they go off. The orbs have a maximum range of a hundred feet from him before they automatically detonate. The orbs can also be remotely detonated by him with a mere thought on his part. It takes him ten seconds to paint the symbols with the Samuraizer that become these three orbs. The orbs also do 'splash' damage in that they release a torrent of flames upon being hit with anything or detonation. These flames can burn an enemy for about 8 seconds. This move requires one hand, so any moves that require both hands couldn't be used while this move is in use. In addition, this move also requires that he give it his full concentration, and so much like the Samuraizer he cannot attack or defend while writing this move. The explosion has a range of twenty-five feet from wherever the orbs happen to be located. These orbs travel at double the speed of an arrow. The power level of the Tri-Fire Orbs tapers off at the far corners of the range,  doing significantly less damage to anyone who comes in contact with the flames. This cannot be fired while moving, and is moderately draining on his stamina.

 [/spoiler]


Teacher took her hand, that night, and with that touch, she felt the power inside her. A device appeared in her hand, called by the Teacher's companion the "Samuraizer". With it, she would paint a few symbols in the air, the device like a paintbrush, and then there were three, free-floating fireballs utterly within her control.

She let those fireballs go off in the alley, scaring the group of cowards she had arrived with. Without a second thought, she handed Teacher the two other bottles she had stolen from her parents.

And then she fled. She left behind the losers from school, those who, when coming face-to-face with a monster, didn't act like prospective members of the Directors, who simply acted as scared spoiled children. She fled down the alleyway, and onto the streets. She was grinning. She had power- and she would use it. She only had a half-hour, so she needed to make her time count.

Taylor ran from them, and turned down one road after another. She was a woman on a mission now. She only slowed when she heard voices coming from another of the Tier's countless dark alleys. The neon lights had a way of creating extremely bright spots, and dark spots with little in between. 

"Come on baby, how much a night, huh?"

"I'm not that kind of girl."

"Course you are." she heard a masculine voice say, from just around the corner. Her feet stopped hitting pavement, and she pushed herself to the wall, forcing her breathing to slow. 

"I'm done for the night, okay? Maybe you'll catch me tomorrow. For now, buzz off!"

The woman, who was dressed in something simultaneously sparkly and dull, and not covering nearly enough skin, pushed her way out of the opening of the alley, walking hurriedly. The prostitute only stopped for a moment, to glace at Taylor, before continuing on her way. 

Taylor decided that she would do what she had come to this Tier to do. 

She reached out and grabbed the woman's wrist, put her foot to the wall, and swung the woman back into the alley. 

"Hey, what the hell, you stupid kid!" the woman growled, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she growled, pushing herself up from the ground and glaring at Taylor. The man who had been propositioning her stood behind them, watching the scuffle dumbly. 

"Do you people in Tier Four ever wonder if life could be better? Why do you people do things like this?"

The prostitute and the man simply stared at Taylor, not truly comprehending her question. 

"Why do you choose to live like trash?" she asked again. 

The woman frowned, getting up off the ground, "I'm not going to sit here and be judged by some snotty rich kid brat. Don't grab me again, or I'll scratch your spoiled eyes out, okay?" she turned towards the man behind her, "The same goes for you, jerk. I'm done for the night. I'm going home."

Taylor breathed in. This was the moment! This was what she had come down here to do. Stealing her dad's wine? Nothing. Sneaking out at night? Nothing. They had no real consequences.

She grinned. She summoned the Samuraizer, and drew the glowing red symbols in the air. She didn't know what they meant, she just instinctively knew what to do, to make her new power work. 

Both of her victims watched the glowing symbols with confusion. When it coalesced, a few seconds later, into three glowing fireballs, they were only just beginning to think of backing away. 

Taylor pushed the spheres forward with a thought. 

The fireballs caught up to their victims, and went off explosively. 

The screams only lasted a few seconds. Taylor was already running. 

She had done it. She had really, really done it.

She made sure she was far away from the alleyway where she had killed the two Tier Four trash, before she stopped and decided to do it again. 

Firelight was much better than neon to light up a dark alley. 

---

Taylor spent the next day in class. She looked, to her friends, slightly tired. But giddy. She wasn't twitchy, she wasn't cackling madly. She simply had a smile on her face, and dark circles under her eyes. 

"...Where did you go last night? After that scarred freak left us-"

"Did you get powers too?" she asked the boy, who was the only she knew of to be a real member of the Directors in her year here on Tier One, "What did you get?"

"I... I got that airblast punch thing." he whispered. 

"Did you use it on anyone?" she asked, smiling wider. 

"What? No! I uh, broke a few windows though. Made sure the trash inside knew that they weren't wanted here. To know to never come up to any higher floors."

She looked disappointed, "...Did he tell you where to find him?" she asked quietly. 

"...Yeah."


"Can you tell me?" Taylor asked, grabbing his wrist. He tried to back away, but her grip was stronger than he expected. 

"Uh... yeah. He said he was heading towards Tier Five. He left us a number..."

"Do you remember it?"

"No." She squeezed tighter, "But I could find out pretty quick."

Taylor let him go, smiling, "Thank you... now tell me, how did that air-pressure punch thing feel to use?"

---

"A return customer?" the Teacher asked, smiling a perfect grin. His mouth was the only thing on his face to not be damaged. Above those white teeth lay nothing but a mish-match of scars and slight indentations where the last vestiges of a nose or a brow might have been. 

"I have three more bottles." 

"And?"

"Some Omnilium." she said, reaching into her pocket and raising the glowing substance. The man with Teacher, apparently a source of powers to draw on, looked very interested. 

"...Very well, and what would you like to do, Taylor?"

She looked to her arm, "I want to do that thing you did in the alley."

The Teacher nodded, and held out his hand, "Very well. It's a deal."

---

Tier Five was even worse than Tier Four. On Tier Four, you at least saw the automation decent people built their lives around. Here, it was like they were trapped a millenium in the past. The roads had holes in them, the lights weren't even neon, the cars lumbered around on wheels and smelled of gas. The buildings were blocky, and made from bricks and concrete and weren't in the least bit clean. 

She found a homeless man sleeping in a corner within two minutes. 

She reached down, and began sucking air into her arm, before aiming it at the man. Point blank. 

The initial explosion had his body splattered across the walls, and the walls were dented behind him. The stream of high-pressure air continued forward, further obliterating the corpse and the bricks. 

She ran, until she found someone else. 

And then she unleashed it once more, and fled again. 

And then she returned to Tier One. 

---

She didn't go every day. 

Not even every other day. 

But at least once a week. It was... thrilling. She had taken to skimming off more and more from her parents, to gather credits and occasionally pure Omnilium, in order to pay the Teacher. 

They were looking for her now. She had seen it on the news, when she turned it to Tier Five. Burned corpses, exploded corpses, poked full of holes and savaged by spikes. The victims were sex workers, petty criminals, alone gangsters, and the homeless. As well, a few times, people who just happened to see her in the act. She had tried out the 'full selection' that the Teacher offered. 

In the end, she liked the Tri-Fireballs the best. Those suited her purposes, more than anything else. 

The police had dubbed her the bomber, as the bodies were nearly always mangled.

She took inspiration from the group that had started her on this path- she wore a nice suit, but she had abandoned the porcelain mask worn by its members in exchange for a simple red mask. 

When she went out at night, she found that it became harder and harder to find people. 

People were beginning to recognize her stomping grounds, and they were staying off the streets, at night. 

More than once, she ran out of time on her powers before she found any street trash worth disposing of. 

She would have to start staking out new locations. 

---

Might looked at his Dataverse device, his smile was strained. 

When 'the Bomber' had first appeared on the scene, he had his arms full with other problems. His daily patrols led him to no small amount of trouble. Panda and Krid would keep their eyes and ears on city and neighborhood bulletins, and guide him to disasters and accidents as they happened. 

Might created a substantial number of firetrucks. 

But now, the streets had become uneasy and worried. The 'stomping gronuds' of the Bomber were becoming well known, and no one would walk those roads at night any more. The police had come close a few times, apparently, but their dogs always lost the trail at the elevators to higher tiers. 

Worse yet, the Bomber was making fewer appearances, lately. Some hoped that this meant that the Bomber was dead. But Might felt it was that the Bomber was simply running out of victims. 

Soon enough, the Bomber would go looking for greener pastures, and there would be a new onslaught of murders. Two or three a week. 

Might couldn't tolerate that. 

He patrolled the area the Bomber was known to walk through, staying close to the rooftops, peering down into alleyways and keeping an ear out for explosions. But no matter how long he waited there, the Bomber was making himself known. There just weren't any potential victims in the area any more. Prostitutes, and those looking for them, knew to stay away. The homeless found safer shelter, and anyone who lived there was sure to keep their windows closed and shuttered after dark, and didn't dare look outside until it was bright out. No early-morning joggers for this neighborhood, any more. 

"...I need to draw him out." Might said to himself quietly, "But I can't put anyone in harm's way. I can't ask Krid or Panda to risk their lives for this, and they really aren't the Bomber's preferred victim, anyway."

He supposed... he could make someone. 

All these people, the entire city, they were all called into existence by Primes. In his experience with the Omniverse, most Secondaries were regular people. But some... those who were created with a specific purpose in mind, could be like robots. They were programmed, they had one reason for existing. He was told, that they often simply wasted away without their Prime giving them new orders. 

He was glad most Secondaries didn't have those problems. 

It was monstrous to even consider, and there was no way that he would ever drag someone to the Omniverse.

...

But a robot?

How many training robots had be seen get destroyed in pursuit of training. And in the Omniverse, he could make anything he wanted. Surely, making an android... one that wasn't sentient... 

The question was, would the Bomber fall for it?

All unquoted lines: 2,406 words 13,454 characters according to wordcounter.net

[All Might]

"So..."

"No."

"But I mean-"

"No."

"It's just a robot, can't we-"

"NO."

"Come on, you don't know anything about the-"

"When I created the android-"

"Gynoid." Panda tossed in, from where he was at the computer. 

"Gynoid... thank you. When I created the gynoid, I created her with clothes already. I think we're all old enough to have moved beyond playing dress-up with out dolls." Might said, exasperated. 

Krid looked over at the decoy, who simply stood in the corner, watching them blankly. Might still didn't exactly feel right about this. The gynoid wasn't sentient, he was sure, but when he was summoning her- it. Summoning it... thoughts managed to worm their way into the design. She wasn't the Hero Midnight. But... enough resemblance to his coworker of many years sneaked through to make it uncomfortable. And he was almost certainly sending the machine to its death, as a decoy, to draw out the serial killer. 

As far as he understood the police reports and the news, the Bomber never stuck around. None of his victims had signs of rape or struggle. Simply... a close-range explosion, followed shortly by death. The Bomber had been seen running from the scene several times, but not much was known about them. They wore a suit, and a blood-red face covering mask. They had dark hair, long enough to cover the neck. They were on the short side. Gender was unknown, age was unknown. Motive was assumed to be simple sadistic drive to kill those who wander the streets, but beyond that, unknown. 

The decoy... should work. 

Upon seeing a woman in revealing clothes walking on the streets after dark, the Bomber's usual style was to attack, and then immediately run.

The gynoid could be controlled via Might's Dataverse Device, and it would let him know the moment the machine gets attacked. It would tell him exactly where, and exactly when.

All that was left was to put it out there and see.  

---

Taylor quietly made her way to the safehouse where Teacher and Veritas based their operations. 

She knocked on the door, and Teacher quickly opened it. He never needed to ask for passwords, or identity checks, or anything like that. He simply knew who it was on the other side of the door. 

"Ah... Miss Taylor."

"I'm here for the usual. I have a few hundred credits and-"

The man frowned slightly, looking away, "Unfortunately, Veritas has decided... to seek his fortune elsewhere. We haven't exactly cut the best deal with the Board of Directors."

"...What does this mean?"

"I no longer offer 'the usual.' I'm afraid I don't have the power to give you the Samuraizer any longer. If you would like bonespear or Arm Coiling Air Propulsion, then we have something to discuss."

"...No. I... I need that power, Teacher! How can I keep-" she stopped, biting her lip, "...Neither of them will do what I want."

"...Yes, it is a shame, isn't it?" Teacher said, sitting down in a nice chair, and turning towards the television, "It was... profitable, doing business with you Taylor, but if you have no further need of my services, then you may leave."

"...This isn't fair!" she shouted. 

Teacher sighed, standing up from his chair and looking to her, "...Taylor, what have you been using my services for? I don't pry normally... but you've probably been my best customer."

"...Cleaning up trash. Wherever I can find it."

"Ah. And you find this fulfilling?"

"..." the girl narrowed her eyes, "Are you judging me?"

"It's wasted potential."

"You're the one who's been... enabling me! You don't get to judge me, Teacher."

"There are better purposes than random murder of people who don't matter. Especially if the sole focus of the murders is that your victims don't matter. It's senseless. You have the makings of a real villain... but you're resigning yourself to being a dime-a-dozen serial killer."

"Dime-a-dozen?! Are you crazy? I'm not a villain, I'm- I'm cleaning up this Tier! If people know not to be bums and whores, then this place might finally stop being such a shithole!"

Teacher watched her, with his eyeless face, "What a weak dream. And a lie, to both yourself and to me. Either tell me the truth, or get out, Taylor."

"What truth?"

"Why do you keep buying powers from me, Taylor?"

"Because I..." she stopped as Teacher reached into her bag, drawing out the blood-red porcelain mask. She stared at it, transfixed, when the Teacher put it over his face. He then raised his hand, his arm coiling. 

"Tell me, when you see me wearing this, and about to kill you... how do you feel? You always need to know, to remember, how your victims feel. It's something very important to learn. It helps you understand. Comprehend."

A rush of fear ran down her spine as she backed up against the wall, "What are you doing?!"

The arm coiled further, and she could hear the hissing of air being drawn into it. 

"Don't you dare hurt me! I-" tell the truth? "I... I kill them because I can! It's fun! I know I'm better than them, if they're dead. They're trash, and I'm high-class, but they never realize it until they're dead and I'm still alive! I'm proving that to them!"

"...There we go. Was that so hard?" Teacher said, uncoiling his hand, letting the air dissipate gently and harmlessly with a long hissing sound. He pulled up the mask, and smiled wide, "There we go, Bomber."

"I'm not the-"

"Oh don't start lying to me again, Bomber. I know both of your names. The one you were created with, and the one that you must make your own. I'm very interested in your career as a supervillain. That idea you have- that core... Murder is meaningless, and cheap, Bomber. Figure out a way to teach people to fear you and understand your superiority implicitly. Stop running. Be a monster, Bomber, not merely a murderer. Become something more fearsome than a person in a mask with a gun."

"...How? You don't have the power any more. And I can't keep stealing from my parents forever, if-"

"Just bring me Omnilium, Bomber. I'll figure something out for you."

---

Might was watching the gynoid from afar as he had the robot walk down the street where the highest number of murders occurred. 

He had been doing this a few nights now, and had to maneuver the robot out of the way of a few people looking for a real prostitute's services more than once. It had been a while since the Bomber last struck, and there was a very possible chance that these nightly stakeouts weren't effective. 

But considering the lack of information otherwise, Might couldn't throw away the plan. 

He switched between eyeing the monitor, and physically looking over the edge of the building to keep a physical eye on his gynoid. 

He was beginning to consider calling it quits for the night when his dataverse device began to flash. Might sprung to his feet and leaped from the building, heading towards his gynoid's position. She had taken damage!

Might roof-hopped closer and closer to the scene of the crime, keeping an eye out for the Bomber. The Dataverse device pinged helpfully all the while. 

There! Slim, not too tall, longish hair... and crimson red mask. 

But it was different now, compared to the reports. Before it had been a simple affair, just a mask, slightly shaped like a smiling face, with eye holes, held to the face by a ribbon. 

But now it was vaguely monstrous. It had a demonic mouth, horns, and flame designs on its eyebrows. Where before there were open eyeholes, the bomber seemed to be wearing goggles attached to the mask. 

"Bomber!" Might shouted, crashing to the ground nearby. He glanced to the side, noticing the smoldering, burning wreck of his robot. He winced, a little uncomfortable at the sight, but reminded himself it had never been sentient, "If you turn yourself in quietly, I won't have to hurt you!"

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" a young female voice growled at him.

"My name is Might!" Might shouted, punching his fist into the palm of his other hand, "I am a hero, who handles criminals the police can't! Now, I'll say it again, surrender now... or face the consequences."

"..." the goggles flashed dangerously, and the mask's demonic mouth opened, a fireball flying forwards from it. 

Might jumped to the side, before narrowing his eyes, "Very well then! Don't say I didn't warn you!" he crossed his arms in front of his chest, and began kicking off the concrete, building up speed. 

"Carolina Smash! " he shouted, charging towards the girl. 

The Bomber swore, and turned to run. Might shot past her, but managed to clip her with his elbow on her side, knocking her over. Might skidded to a halt, shaking out his hands to get rid of the stored energy. Well, so much for his debut of Carolina Smash in the Omniverse. But no matter!

The superhero was after her like a dart, the girl was running as fast as she could, and Might could tell, she was intensely familiar with the location. She knew when to turn, when to halt, when to change direction. He almost lost her more than once, but he was faster, more agile, and, most importantly, he had done his homework. 

She turned down a hidden alleyway, squeezing between two houses, where a man Might's size couldn't possibly fit. 

He landed on the other side of the alleyway, and the Bomber's head turned towards him. The devil mask's maw opened once more, spouting another fireball that traveled down the thin pathway, before coming out the other end. Might couldn't allow it to hit the building on the other side, however, so he pulled back his fist. 

"Detroit Smash!" he cried. The explosion hit, but the blastwave was more-or-less dissipated by the shockwave from Might's own Smash. The shockwave spread through the alleyway, bringing down two walls on the serial killer. 

He began climbing the wreckage, shoving his way through the skinny alleyway, not bothered by the damage to the walls. This girl had killed dozens. Some property damage was a much lower priority. He began shoving aside bricks, trying to dig her up, when he cleared a few bricks and took in the sight of a Devil Mask. 

The jaws opened wide, and Might barely had time to cover his face before the fireball exploded forwards.

He was sent flying backwards, crashing into the further remains of the broken brickwork. The explosion had the second effect of clearing away what was keeping the Bomber trapped. She pushed her way free, before turning on the superhero and letting loose. 

FWOOSHhooouuuhKRAACKROOOOM!!!

Might was knocked backwards, groaning in pain, his face, chest, and arms were bloody and burnt. Panting, he pushed himself back up and glared at the girl, but his smile remained in place. If anyone was watching, he wouldn't allow himself to be seen as being in trouble. A superhero did not feel pain, a superhero did not get discouraged!

He forced himself to stand, and then to jump. 

She followed him with her gaze, not bothering to try and hit him while he was in the air. He landed on the other end of the alleyway, and reared back his fist yet again, tensing as his muscles began to burn and strain under his skin. He didn't have too many more of these in him... so this would have to finish it!

"Detroit Smash!" he called again, this time intentionally clipping the wall with his fist and sending the shockwave rippling through the brickwork. The wall came down again, and the girl cried out in pain as she was caught in the second wave of collapsing building. 

He moved forward, fists at the ready. He didn't want to use a real attack again anytime soon, but he would more than make do with regular punches with his full strength. 

He waited by the wreckage, watching carefully. When rubble began to move, he dashed forwards, kicking the Bomber and the rubble both, sending the serial killer careening through the air, and then into a rough tumble down the pile. She stopped moving. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, he walked up to her, bending down to check the pulse- good. She was still breathing. She would still face trial. 

Picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. Might fished around in his jacket pocket. Pulling free one of his Might Agency business cards, he quickly wrote a brief apology on it. He would cover the damages, repair the walls with Omnilium. Pay medical bills, if need be. 

It would all be worth it however. He passed by the broken remains of his gynoid- and he felt the need to salute. She had done her job excellently. The robot played a role in what likely had saved the lives of dozens more innocent men and women.

Might stared at the machine, before bending down to pick it up, cradling the machine with the opposite arm that was holding the serial killer who broke it. 

He made his way back to the police station, where Lieutenant Oakes would be waiting. 

---

"Taylor... how could you?" her father asked, his face completely pale, "You... you really killed people. All those people?"

"They were trash. You said it yourself, the last time we visited Tier Four on business." the Bomber said back, her voice surprisingly clear despite the state of her body. Covered in bruises and minor cuts. Burns, from her own explosives. 

"I... I never meant like this! I... I would have never wanted you to kill them! When I called them trash I- I- don't pin this on me, you stupid girl! I had made life set for you! You were in a good school, you were rich, you had whatever clothes, whatever devices, whatever you wanted! Why would you do this to me?"

"I didn't do this to you." she growled, "I did this... for me."

Her father sighed, cupping his face in his hands, "...Where did you get the mask? The one you've been using to kill everyone?"

"I won't tell." she said, her voice hard as iron.

"Why?"

"Because the one who made me that mask is the one who made me tell the truth to myself." the Bomber said. 

"Taylor-"

"My name is Bomber. Now."

"...You're a damn serial killer. I raised a serial killer." her father murmured, standing up. He turned his back on his daughter, and began to weakly walk towards the door. 

"I'm not a serial killer." he turned to her, eyes confused. She smiled, wide, wider, until her grin almost matched the demonic one on her mask, "I'm a supervillain."

He left the room. 

Might and Lieutenant Oakes stood on the other side of the glass, watching her. 

"...You okay?"

"I'll heal. Or I'll die, and be back in a week." Might said quietly, "It's not important. The pain isn't nearly at my threshold, believe you me."

"I'm not talking about that. When she said that last word-" Oakes quieted, "Supervillain... you flinched. I never saw you flinch before."

"I'm a superhero." Might said, "The worst of the worst-" he began, before quieting, "...When people hear the word 'supervillain'... they don'y think it's serious. Usually. Hearing 'terrorist' or 'serial killer', or even 'mugger'... those words are scary. But supervillains are cartoons. Even in a world of people who see living cartoons among them, they don't see the word 'supervillain' as a real threat."

"...She's still just a serial killer. Just one that wears a mask. So what if she calls herself a serial killer."

"Supervillains," Might began, "can't be reasoned with. They're people who discover they have power over others, and then go out and kill, and murder, and steal... not because they have to, not because of insanity, not because they need the money or were wrapped into the wrong crowd, or because of a compulsion. They're people who have decided their fun is more important than sentient lives, and that they no longer are people on the same level of others. They're people who have decided they are one step above." 

Oakes was quiet, looking through the glass at the girl. "What do you make of the murder weapon?"

"How did it work?"

"There's a pressure lever in the mask. She bites down on it, the jaws of the mask open, and it pours out pure Omnilium from containers in the pouch. It gets funneled into this... well, let me see if you can make any sense of it."

"It's... crystal." Might took the offered component in his hand, "Shaped into the symbol for 'fire'. It's Japanese. The Bomber isn't, though."

"That doesn't mean much. On the streets, I hear more Japanese getting screamed by the Westside Deathblades than I do from the Blue Lilly. We don't have any idea what it's made of. We don't think it's magic- but it isn't any technology we've seen either."

"...I'll keep an eye on it." Might promised. The superhero turned to leave, when Oakes clapped a hand on his massive shoulder. 

"You did good work today." he said, "...You should see about changing that appearance of yours. At this point, I really don't want to arrest you."

"Oh yeah, that bounty thing." Might shook his head, "I'll see what I can do."

---

Teacher clasped his fingers together, looking at the news report with a war of emotions roiling in his gut. 

Fury, oh yes, there was fury, seeing that smile. That fucking hair. 

Joy? A bit. Seeing even one familiar face in this bizarre world was good, definitely. It also meant that he would have a chance for genuine revenge. 

Confusion? Why the hell was All Might wearing green?! And calling himself "Might"? It amused him a bit that the news tried to hide his identity, but no amount of pixelation could hide that hair, that smile, and those muscles. And as far as misleading names, going from "All Might" to "Might" was barely an attempt. A quick search found that "All Might" described as a "large and well-built blonde man" who "wears a skintight red and blue suit" had a bounty on his head for interfering with policework. A change in name and costume, then?

And finally, regret. 

The Bomber's first night as a supervillain... and she was brought down by goddamn All Might.The Bomber was the first villain he created in the Omniverse. He had shaped her, given her a weapon that he had spent no small amount of Omnilium and time making from nothing, and all of it came to naught. He wasn't sure if she was even worth it to rescue her from prison. She was small-fry, ultimately. While she would have made a good enforcer; given some time and few more upgrades and some real training, she didn't have the right attitude for the Villain League he envisioned. 

He would leave her there, and trust she wouldn't reveal him. But even if she did- he was already a criminal. It would harm his reputation a bit to if people knew he was responsible for the "Tier Five Bomber", but even that was something he could make use of. 

"...I'll be watching, All Might. You'll regret the day that Omni chose both of us for this world."

3,252 words 18,279 characters according to wordcounter.net
Quest Stipulations:

• 5,658/5,000 words. 
  
• Track down and defeat the killer in Tier 5. - Done!
  
• Turn the killer into the police for the reward 'Increased Renown among Coruscant Citizens' - Done!