James Harlan's POV
The city smelled wrong tonight.
Musutafu never slept, not really, but the underbelly—the parts the heroes pretended didn't exist—had a particular stink when something rotten was happening. I'd been wandering the industrial district for the past hour, restless after the USJ fallout.
The news feeds were still buzzing about All Might's effortless victory, Class 1-A's survival, Izuku's quiet competence with water shields and healing streams. Good. Everything was proceeding better than canon because of me.
But the restlessness wouldn't quit.
I'd felt it since stepping out of Soul Space earlier—a faint tug, like the universe nudging me toward something I was supposed to fix. The mysterious blue screen hadn't said a word since mocking me last night for almost getting paralyzed in an alley. No hints, no quests. Just silence.
Until now.
A single notification pinged in my peripheral vision as I passed a derelict warehouse row.
[Anomaly Detected: Child Subject – Quirk Overuse & Exploitation]
Location: Shie Hassaikai Headquarters, Underground Sector 7-B
Priority: Immediate Intervention Recommended]
Eri.
I knew the name before the screen even finished. The little girl with the Rewind Quirk. The one Overhaul—Chisaki Kai—had turned into a living bullet factory.
In canon, she was discovered during the internship arc, months from now. But timelines were already shredded. All Might was healthy. Izuku had water instead of One For All. The League was licking wounds instead of plotting.
Why wait?
I didn't bother with stealth at first. I walked straight up to the nondescript entrance—a rusted metal door tucked between two abandoned factories—and kicked it in.
The hinges screamed. Inside, dim fluorescent lights flickered over concrete corridors. Yakuza grunts in plague-doctor masks turned, startled.
"Who the hell—?"
I didn't answer.
A fireball the size of a basketball left my palm and detonated against the first one's chest. He didn't even have time to scream before the flames ate through his coat and skin. The smell of charred flesh filled the hallway.
Two more rushed me from the side corridor. One raised a hand—some kind of hardening Quirk forming spikes along his forearm. I sidestepped, summoned a water whip from thin air, and cracked it across his throat like a wet razor. The whip sliced clean through cartilage and bone. His head lolled at a sick angle as he dropped.
The second tried to tackle me. I met him with a point-blank water trident, imited power, but sharp enough. It punched through his sternum and out the back. He gasped once, blood bubbling, then slumped.
I kept moving.
Every turn brought more of them. Overhaul's disposable soldiers. Masked. Armed with guns, knives, Quirks. They died the same way—fire to burn, water to drown or cut. I didn't waste energy on flair. No speeches. No mercy. Just efficiency.
A burly one with a strength enhancement Quirk charged, roaring. I threw a concentrated fire bolt into his open mouth. He collapsed choking on his own melting tongue.
Another tried to blind me with a flash Quirk. I closed my eyes, felt the heat build in my palms, and unleashed a wide fan of flames that turned the corridor into an oven. He cooked inside his own mask.
Deeper I went. Alarms blared now. Reinforcements poured from side rooms. I lost count after the first dozen. Bodies piled in my wake—scorched, shredded, drowned in hallways that suddenly had no drainage.
My hands were steady. My breathing even.
I wasn't angry.
I was calm.
Dangerously, murderously calm.
The final stairwell led down into the true underbelly—sterile white walls, surgical lights, the faint chemical reek of disinfectants and blood. Overhaul's lab.
I kicked the reinforced door open.
The room beyond was clinical horror.
A single operating table in the center. Restraints. IV drips. Surgical tools laid out like a buffet.
And on the table—curled into the smallest ball possible—was Eri.
Bandages covered almost every inch of her visible skin. Fresh red seeped through white gauze on her arms, legs, torso. Her silver hair was matted with sweat and old blood. Tiny hands clutched the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
She looked up at me with wide, terrified red eyes.
I stopped.
The calm didn't break. It deepened.
Behind her, across the room, stood Chisaki Kai—Overhaul. Mask on. Gloves pristine. He'd clearly been in the middle of another "procedure." A syringe hovered near her arm.
He tilted his head.
"You're not supposed to be here."
I didn't reply.
Instead, I reached into my inventory with a thought.
The Soul Stone materialized in my palm, orange, glowing, warm like a living ember.
Eri's eyes flicked to it, then to me.
I knelt slowly so I was eye-level with her.
"Hey," I said, voice soft. "It's okay. You're going to sleep now. Just sleep. No more pain. No more anything until you wake up somewhere safe."
She blinked once—tears cutting tracks through the grime on her cheeks.
I pressed the Stone gently to her forehead.
[Soul Stone – Slot 1 Assigned: Eri
Command: Sleep peacefully until summoned or released by James Harlan.]
Her eyelids fluttered. The tension bled out of her small frame. She sighed—a tiny, exhausted sound—and went limp, breathing slow and even.
I lifted her carefully, cradling her like she was made of glass, and laid her against my chest.
Then I turned to Overhaul.
He hadn't moved. Yet.
I walked forward.
He finally reacted, lunging to disassemble the floor beneath me, trying to turn the tiles into a trap.
I was faster.
My free hand snapped out. Fingers hooked under the edge of his plague mask.
I ripped it off.
The sound it made—fabric tearing, plastic cracking—was almost comical.
Chisaki's eyes went wide behind his glasses. His gloved hands flew to his face.
"No—no—no—no—"
Mysophobia. Germophobia on steroids.
His breathing hitched into hyperventilation. He staggered back, clawing at his own cheeks, smearing invisible filth.
"You—you touched me—you filth—you—"
I let him panic.
Five full minutes.
He screamed. Sobbed. Retched dryly into his gloves. Collapsed to his knees, rocking, muttering about purification, about how he'd have to burn everything, cut everything off.
I watched.
Calm.
Then I raised my hand.
A single fireball—small, precise—formed in my palm.
I threw it.
It struck him square between the legs.
The scream that tore out of him was inhuman.
High-pitched. Raw. Endless.
The fabric of his pants ignited. Flesh sizzled. The smell of burning meat mixed with the sterile lab air.
He doubled over, clutching himself, howling.
I didn't stop.
Water whips lashed out—sharp, pressurized, like liquid blades.
One across his back—splitting fabric and skin.
One across his arms, forcing him to release his ruined groin.
One across his face—opening a gash from cheek to jaw.
He tried to disassemble me. Tried to reach out with shaking, bloody hands.
I stepped inside his range and drove a water trident through his left palm, pinning it to the floor.
He shrieked louder.
I tortured him for two hours.
Fire to cauterize and burn—shallow at first, then deeper.
Water to drown his screams, flood his lungs just enough to make him choke, then pull back.
Whips to flay. Bolts to sear nerves.
I broke fingers one by one. Snapped his arms at the elbows. Carved shallow lines across his chest until the white coat was red tatters.
He begged.
He cried.
He promised anything—money, power, Quirks, Eri's freedom (as if he still had control).
I didn't speak.
Not once.
When the two hours ended, I stood over what was left of him.
He was barely conscious. Shaking. Bleeding from every pore.
I reached down.
Fingers curled around his ribcage.
I pulled.
His heart came out still beating—slick, pulsing, obscene.
I crushed it.
Chisaki Kai died with a wet gurgle.
The body slumped.
Silence.
Then the screen appeared, floating smugly in midair.
[Overhaul, more like an ugly piece of shit who deserved a more painful death, but this brutality is good enough!!!]
[Objective Complete: Eri Rescued]
[Bonus: Shie Hassaikai Leadership Eliminated Early]
[Enjoy your new daughter figure, idiot 😏]
I exhaled through my nose.
The Soul Stone was still slotted—Eri safe, sleeping, under my permanent protection now.
I looked down at the small girl in my arms.
She hadn't stirred.
I opened a portal to Soul Space.
Stepped through.
The dimension welcomed us immediately.
A new room had manifested—soft pastel walls, gentle lighting, stuffed animals on shelves, a crib that looked more like a princess bed. The Soul Space itself had prepared it. Magic bullshit at its finest.
I laid Eri down on the mattress. Pulled the blankets over her bandaged form.
She sighed in her sleep—peaceful for the first time in who knew how long.
I brushed a strand of silver hair from her face.
"You're safe now, kid."
I turned to leave, but paused at the doorway.
Hayley, Hope, and Jozie were still asleep in the master suite. They'd wake eventually. They'd meet her. They'd understand.
For now, though…
I let the door close softly behind me.
The screen hovered one last time.
[New Resident Added: Eri]
[Welcome home.]
I didn't reply.
I just walked back to the master bedroom, slid under the covers between my wives, and closed my eyes.