**Chapter 39: Brainwashing**
Natsu's eyes had gone completely white, his once fiery presence now hollow as he stood frozen. He had fallen victim to Shinso's Brainwashing Quirk, and within his mind, it was as if he were submerged beneath the crushing depths of the ocean. Every sound, every voice, was muffled and distant, save for one. The voice of Shinso. The only sound that reached him, clear and commanding, as if it was the only voice that existed in his world.
Above the arena, the crowd erupted into chaos, their voices rising in waves, echoing off the stadium walls. Kaminari and Yaoyorozu screamed at the top of their lungs, their words frantic as they called out to Natsu, desperate to snap him out of whatever had overtaken him. But their voices, though they were close, seemed impossibly far away to him—just faint echoes in the vast emptiness that had become his mind.
The arena shook as Present Mic's voice boomed through the speakers, his tone one of utter confusion. "What in the world is going on down there!? Natsu Dragneel, usually a force of nature, is just standing still! He's not moving an inch! Where's that burning passion we're used to seeing from him? Where's the fire?!"
Meanwhile, Shinso's eyes gleamed with a dangerous confidence, his purple hair falling over his forehead as he looked at Natsu, standing helpless before him. A sly smirk crept onto his lips. "They're still looking at you, you know," he taunted, his voice low and mocking. "Even though we're in the final minute of the game. Do they really expect something from you? You've reached your limits, Natsu Dragneel. There's no breaking past this barrier."
Shinso's confidence grew as he saw the helplessness of Natsu's team, the desperate attempts of his friends trying to shake him back to his senses. He relished in the power he held over Natsu, but just as his smirk widened, something cold and unsettling rippled through his mind.
A voice, rough and deep, echoed in his head—something ancient and wild, like a growl that sent shivers down his spine. *"Well done, kid... You've managed to take control of my foolish son. He's completely under your thumb now."*
Shinso's eyes darted around in panic, his heart racing. Where had that voice come from? Who was speaking? His confidence wavered, and his smirk faltered as he looked around, trying to locate the source of the voice.
*What the…?* he thought, his breath catching in his throat. "Who… who's there?" he muttered, his voice barely audible.
But the voice responded again, this time louder, almost roaring in his mind. *"It's not your fault, boy. My weak, idiotic son is to blame!"*
A bead of sweat rolled down Shinso's forehead. His composure shattered, and he glanced around wildly, trying to make sense of what was happening. *"Son?"* he repeated in disbelief, his voice cracking. *"What are you talking about? And who are you? How did you even get inside my mind?"*
He stared at Natsu, still locked in his trance, his blank white eyes staring off into nothingness. The voice couldn't be coming from him, could it?
But then, all at once, Natsu's head jerked violently from side to side, as though something was tearing through his very soul. And then, like a thunderclap, a voice—louder and more terrifying than anything Shinso had ever heard—bellowed inside his mind.
*"Wake up, you idiot son of mine!!!"*
The roar was deafening, a primal call that only Shinso could hear. His entire body jolted as if struck by lightning. His face contorted in pain, his eyes widened in sheer disbelief, and blood trickled from his nose as the force of the roar overwhelmed him. His knees buckled beneath him as his body gave way, the weight of the voice pressing him down.
As he collapsed, his mind raced, trying to comprehend what had just happened. *"What…? A dragon…? This… this has to be some kind of hallucination… No… I can't have lost to my own Quirk… This is a sick joke."*
His body hit the ground, slow and heavy, and his eyes glazed over as consciousness slipped away. With his fall, the Brainwashing Quirk broke, and the members of his team, once under his control, blinked in confusion as they returned to their senses.
And then, Natsu's eyes began to change. The blank whiteness that had overtaken them began to fade, replaced by the vibrant, determined black irises that were so unmistakably his. Life surged back into his gaze, and with it, the fiery spirit that had been momentarily extinguished returned in full force.
Up in the announcer's booth, Present Mic could hardly believe his eyes. "What just happened!? One second, Natsu was out of it, and now he's back! Can someone explain this to me?!"
Kaminari, breathless but grinning, rushed forward. He grabbed the headband from the unconscious Shinso and, with a satisfied smirk, held it up to Natsu. "I don't know what just happened, but this means you won, right, Natsu?"
Natsu was still trying to process what had just occurred, the strange feeling lingering in his mind. But he didn't let it slow him down. He took the headband from Kaminari, the 2,300-point headband now in his grasp. He grinned, slipping it onto his forehead. "That doesn't matter right now. We need the ten-million-point headband. Let's move!"
The stadium erupted in a frenzy of cheers as Present Mic shouted into the microphone, his voice booming with excitement. "Unbelievable! Natsu's team is back in the game, and with that headband, they're up to third place! The crowd's going wild! I never expected such a comeback from these guys!"
The roar of the spectators filled the air, shaking the very ground beneath them. Yamada, still shocked by the unexpected turn of events, could barely contain his astonishment. "I didn't see that coming! But it looks like this crowd is rooting for Natsu's team even more than we thought! You better not fall again, Team Natsu!"
Yaoyorozu's sharp eyes flicked to the far corner of the arena. There, at a distance of eighty meters, stood Todoroki and Iida, their team still maintaining control of the ten-million-point headband. The timer showed only thirty seconds left.
Jiro shook her head, her voice heavy with doubt. "We won't make it in time. Thirty seconds isn't enough."
But Kaminari, his resolve unwavering, clenched his fists and broke into a sprint. "I won't forgive Todoroki for putting us in this mess!"
Yaoyorozu and Jiro exchanged glances, their lips curling into determined smiles. "You're right," Yaoyorozu said. "Let's go."
As they ran, Kaminari lifted his head slightly and cast a curious glance at Natsu. "By the way, Natsu, I was worried you wouldn't be able to play the cavalry rider because of your weakness with transportation."
The moment the words left Kaminari's mouth, Natsu's expression shifted dramatically in a comical instant. His face turned green with nausea, his body swaying unsteadily as he struggled to stay upright on Kaminari's shoulders.
Jiro, Yaoyorozu, and Kaminari's jaws dropped in unison, their eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you serious right now!?" they shouted.
Natsu groaned, his voice weak and pitiful. "Please… stop… I can't take it anymore…"
Jiro rolled her eyes, exasperated. "How do you plan to get revenge on Todoroki when you're like this? You're pathetic."
And yet, as the chaotic energy of the final seconds swirled around them, the air thick with tension and excitement, the final whistle of the match echoed through the arena. Midnight's voice rang out with authority, declaring the end of the cavalry battle.
Present Mic's energetic commentary followed swiftly. "That's it, folks! The match is over! What a battle we've seen today—an incredible display of power, strategy, and heart! Let's hear it for these students—this has been one for the history books!"
The stadium roared, the cheers of the audience rising like a tidal wave, shaking the stands with their overwhelming excitement. In the midst of it all, Happy fluttered above the crowd, tears in his eyes, his small voice barely audible in the midst of the celebration. "Natsu! You did it! You got third place!"
Everywhere, drops of sweat glistened on the faces of the competitors, the toll of the battle visible in every heavy breath they took. But amidst the exhaustion, there was also pride—pride in having survived the relentless chaos of the Cavalry Battle.
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