-Rain of Sins-
-Dark Revival: Ch 3.5-
Tartarus.
The high-security prison is located on an island over five kilometers from the mainland, surrounded by giant metal walls that were bristling with defenses. The only access to the prison is a long bridge connected to a city with the entrance guarded by guards that check every vehicle going in. The gate that stands in front of the mainland side of the bridge is known as "The Bronze Gate" and is strong enough to withstand high yield explosives on top of being electrified.
If someone is able to force their way past these defenses, the bridge connecting the prison to the mainland can be made to collapse one section at a time- effectively cutting the island off from Japan entirely.
Anti Air installments and undersea mines make the prospect of swimming of flying to the prison a fool's errand for all but the most durable of quirks.
Tartarus' interior is heavily armored with blast doors lining narrow, steel-plated hallways. Though nominally a prison, the facility effectively serves as a dumping ground for individuals who threaten or have threatened public safety to a drastic extent. Regardless of sentencing status, these individuals are incarcerated and heavily monitored in Tartarus.
People with a wide range of Quirks are locked within its walls and divided up among six cell blocks, depending on the danger their Quirks represent and the severity of their cases. The more dangerous the individual, the deeper they’re kept within the prison. The deepest level of the prison, cell block six, is located 500 meters below sea level.
Sensors are continuously monitoring the vital functions of prisoners, reacting to even the slightest sign of unusual behavior or attempts to activate a Quirk. These sensors are also connected to several gas valves on each corner of the room, which release a powerful sleeping agent if the prisoners suddenly move or make aggressive actions, such as activating their Quirk.
Should a prisoner not be incapacitated by the gas, and still refuse to calm down ceiling-mounted, automated machine guns will fire on the prisoner with either paralyzing darts or live rounds, depending on the danger of the situation.
Tartarus guards, all military personnel, monitor prisoners in a room with several screens displaying the inside of cells, where they are able to watch prisoners from every angle, and manually activate the defense systems should the sensors be incapacitated in some way.
Conversations between military guards are recorded whilst they are on the job and they are also allowed to use lethal force with both their quirks and the firearms they are supplied with. In the event of a cell breakout, guards are allowed to open fire on prisoners without warning, as all prisoners found outside their cells are automatically assumed to be attempting escape.
At the deepest part of the facility, reserved for the absolute most dangerous Villains, prisoners are heavily restrained, strapped on a large metal recliner with a full-body straitjacket, and not allowed to move. Here they are kept, in solitary confinement, until the day they die. All bodily needs, be it food, water. medicine, or waste disposal, are done through various tubes.
To be put in the sixth layer of Tartarus is to carve your name into the history books as a Villain so terrifying that the Japanese government is willing to ignore international human rights organizations, as well as condemnation from the UN, just to keep you contained.
To make it that far, you are a legend.
To make it that far, you are a threat to national security.
To make it that far, you become something more than just a Villain. You become a figurehead of fear. A testament to the monsters that society can create, and the depths of depravity that humanity can sink to.
And Tomura Shigaraki was INFURIATED that they didn’t put him down there!
They hadn’t put him in cell block six, not even five, not even four, but THREE! This was outrageous! He was the leader of the League of Villains! The symbol of Evil! The man who would one day kill All Might, and topple society!
And they put him on floor THREE!? Just because he was missing a few fingers!?
“I’ll show them! I’ll show them all!” Tomura seethed as he shoveled down the protein slop on his tray. “When Sensei gets me out of here, I’ll make them regret their entire lives! It doesn’t matter that I can’t use my quirk right now! I’m the greatest threat Japan has ever seen!”
It was only a matter of time until Sensei came for him.
Even if it had been several weeks. Even if he’d let Kurogiri, one of Sensei’s most important assets, die right in front of him. Even if he had lost the entire League in an attack that Sensei had specifically told him to plan out more beforehand…
Sensei wouldn’t abandon him, he was sure!
…
Sensei cared for him, even after all his failures.
…
All for One needed him.
…
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Right?
A loud buzz rang out, announcing the end of lunchtime. A slot in the wall opened, revealing an airtight rectangle that was only a few inches tall and about a foot wide.
Tomura scowled. He wasn’t done with his slop! It tasted terrible, and he hated the stuff, but he wasn’t done! He would riot if it wouldn’t get him shot! But he still dutifully stood up and pushed his tray into the slot, with the flimsy plastic spoon included.
He’d kept his food past the end of lunch his first day, and tried to covertly keep his spoon the second out of spite. Both times had resulted in his cell (and the cells adjacent to his) getting gassed, and him waking up several hours later, spoonless, with several fresh bruises and a pounding headache.
A second buzz rang out, warning everyone to step back, and a few seconds later the hole slammed shut with enough force to easily sever fingers.
With nothing else to do, Tomura slumped down on the completely featureless floor, and looked up at the completely featureless ceiling of his completely featureless cell.
He scratched his shoulder where the stiff itchy fabric of his mass produced reddish-orange prison jumpsuit was rubbing his skin, but even that momentary distraction disappeared.
…
Man.
This sucked.
Footsteps drew his attention to the one part of the room that wasn’t a completely featureless white slate of boring- the clear wall of strange plastic bullshit material that was somehow as tough as metal, and looked out into a small part of a bland empty hallway.
A group of four highly armored guards marched past his cell, the same as any patrol, but with them was a man in a dark suit and tinted glasses.
He’d seen this guy being escorted through here before, and he had not clue who he was or why he was here, but he did know where he was going.
Tomura waited a few seconds as the guards passed out of sight, then calmly walked over to the left wall and sat down next to the vent in the corner where gas came out of. It was covered in a thin sheet of metal that could only be opened remotely, so he couldn’t access the vent directly, but he still had to play calm for the ceiling turrets that were following him and watching for any sudden movements.
He pressed his ear up against the covered vent, and strained his ears to listen in on the voices in the cell next to his.
…
“Three times? Really? Ha! Just how bad are things getting out there?”
Tomura could faintly hear the muffled voice of an older woman through the tubes that ran gas to both of their cells. Just like every time he heard her her voice sounded… hollow, almost. Like a beaten dog who had given up and accepted the abuse in defeat.
He pressed even harder against the wall, but he couldn’t make out what the man was saying, to his disappointment.
“I used to run your job, occasionally, you know? Back in my day we only asked twice, and if they rejected the first offer we let them sit in their cell for awhile, every waking moment stewing with the knowledge they could have gotten out. Sometimes we left them for over a year, with nothing to do but wonder if we’d ever come back. That would usually crack even the toughest ones real quick. And yet you’ve come here to ask me- who I know is the last person you want to ask, three times in less than a week!”
…
“Here’s a counter offer, let me shoot president Kinoshita, and I’ll pin a list to the bloody door of her office with over a hundred reasons why the Safety Commission should be disassembled and burnt to the ground.”
…
“No. Stop. There is no freedom with you. There is no freedom with the people you work for. They would keep me on the shortest leash possible to make sure I can’t do what I did last time. Not allowed online, not allowed to talk to anyone, because of what I might tell people. I’d be kept in a sealed box, like a tool, taken out when you want someone to disappear, and then shoved away when the job is done.”
…
“I don’t care about Japan! IT’S ALL FAKE! IT’S ALL A LIE! IT’S YOUR LIE!”
…
“THERE IS NO JUSTICE! If the Hero system deserved to exist there wouldn’t have been any messes for me to ‘clean up’! If the government was, in any way, for the people , I wouldn’t have had a show trial! Face it! The fact you couldn’t get me in here for what I did to the HPSC, and had to resort to pulling up evidence from missions you gave me and that you helped cover up, shows just how much of a sham this all is!”
…
“I want you to get this through your thick skull. I will NEVER bloody my hands with your dirty work ever again ! Even in Tartarus, alone and able to think for myself, I’m more free now than I ever was under you!”
There was the sound of commotion, and the man angrily marched his way back the way he came, with the soldiers in toe.
“ROT IN HELL! I HOPE EVERYTHING FALLS APART JUST SO EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” The woman shouted.
There was a thud of someone hitting the plastic wall, followed by the POP of a turret shooting a tranquilizer, and the sound of a body hitting the floor.
Tomura frowned and scratched his chin in deep thought.
“Alone and free to think for herself, huh?”
…
Would All for One break him out?
-Rain of Sins-
“WE’RE GONNA ROCK ROCK ROCK , ‘TILL YOU DROP DROP DROP! YEAH THE METAL MOON IS RISING!”
Sulfur sang along to his headphones’ music as he jammed along with his air guitar.
Most Villains were scared out of their socks to so much as peak their heads outside, for the fear of the HPSC- err, the CSC, swooping down like a hawk with a wholeass army of police and dragging them off. But the notorious, infamous, and incredibly good looking Villain known as Mustard was one of the only bad guys around who covered his entire face and wore gloves everywhere. No one had any idea what he looked like!
Kind of a dumb move on every other Villain’s part, if you asked Sulfur- hence why he was a Super Villain, and they were not. So he was more than free to jam his way down the less patrolled parts of town, so long as he didn’t do anything to attract attention.
“WE’RE GONNA ROCK ROCK ROCK , ‘TILL YOU DROP DROP DROP! YEAH THE METAL MOON IS RISING!”
“WE’RE GONNA ROCK ROCK ROCK , ‘TILL YOU DROP DROP DROP! YEAH I’M LYRIC SYNTHESIZIN’!”
Suddenly a sharp CRACK , like the sound of thunder, had him flinging himself back in surprise. And his eyes bulged as a large ball of blue lighting appeared out of nowhere and began sparking off the brick walls.
After a few seconds the lighting died down, and a person fell from the ball to the ground.
It was a girl in her young teens, with long silver hair, a plain white t shirt, and a pair of battered blue jeans. She was also soaking wet, like she’d just been pulled out from the middle of a typhoon, and a blue baseball cap flopped to the ground beside her, just as wet as she was.
There was also, you know, just casually a GIANT FUCKING HORN STICKING OUT OF HER HEAD THAT ALL THE LIGHTING WAS SHOOTING OFF FROM.
“What the fuck!?” Sulfur automatically said in shock as he stepped back.
The girl looked up at the sound of his voice and a pair of bright red eyes opened wide in shock- then her face lit up in familiarity.
“Atl-”
CRACK
The blue lighting suddenly intensified again, forcing him to shield his eyes until it died down.
When he lowered them the strange girl, and the lightning were both gone, leaving no proof of her existence beyond a soggy hat sitting in an out of place puddle on the floor of the alleyway.
…
Sulfur’s phone dropped to the ground, completely fried and unable to play music.
“What the actual fuck was that?”
-Chapter End-