The atmosphere in the abandoned warehouse was thick with the scent of metal and oil, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the concrete floor. Lucas stood at the center, surrounded by the members of the newly formed Vigilante Front. He had always been a lone wolf, operating in the shadows, but now, in the presence of these strangers, something was different. These people understood him, even if just a little.
The group had arrived just in time. The assassins had been formidable, but with the Vigilante Front's help, they had been driven off quickly. Still, Lucas could feel the weight of their gazes upon him. Each of them had their own reasons for standing outside the law, for choosing the path of a vigilante. Some wore the same "villainous" branding he did, their quirks labelled as dangerous by society, but they had all found common ground in their shared desire to make things right.
"Nice job, kid," one of the members said, giving Lucas a nod of approval. He was a tall, scruffy-looking man with a shaved head and a scar that ran down the left side of his face. His quirk—something involving shadow manipulation—was both deadly and hard to control. "You've got guts to take on a group like that by yourself. Could use a guy like you in the Front."
Lucas didn't respond, though. He wasn't one to open up easily, and something told him he couldn't trust these people fully, not yet. Still, there was a quiet respect in their eyes. They had seen the news, just like everyone else. They knew what kind of person he was being painted as. But here, in this room full of outcasts, he wasn't the villain. He wasn't the nightmare.
He was just another soldier in a war no one else understood.
---
The Vigilante Front wasn't a formal organization. It was more like a loose collection of individuals who had been wronged by the world, each with their own skills, quirks, and objectives. Some had once been heroes, others had never cared for the system at all. Some were former criminals who had realized the error of their ways, while others were still caught in a battle between right and wrong. The one thing they all shared was the understanding that the system didn't care about them.
As the days went by, Lucas began to get a sense of their operations. He trained with them, fought alongside them, and learned their methods. They didn't always agree on how things should be done, but they understood the need for action.
"Kid," one of the women in the group, a fiery redhead with a quirk that allowed her to create flame-based constructs, said one evening as they gathered around the table in the hideout, "You ever think about what happens if this whole thing blows up? If someone finds out who you really are?"
Lucas stared at the table, his fingers tracing the edge of the rough wood. He hadn't thought about it much, but the question was always there, lingering.
"I've thought about it," he said slowly, eyes narrowed. "But what choice do I have? I can't stop now. I'm already too far in." He met her gaze, something dark in his eyes. "You know how it is. Once you've made the choice to fight, you don't get to walk away."
The redhead nodded, respect in her gaze. "Fair enough. Just know you're not alone in this. None of us are."
Lucas could only offer a tight nod in return. He wasn't ready to let anyone know who he truly was, not yet. His identity—his past—was a weapon, a weakness, and a vulnerability. If they knew, it would only add more danger to the already precarious situation he found himself in.
For now, the Vigilante Front respected his decision, understanding the risks of revealing too much. They knew that anyone here could be a spy or a traitor—no one trusted anyone fully. But for the first time, Lucas didn't feel completely alone in his fight. There were others who, at least in some way, understood the weight he carried.
---
The weeks passed in a blur. Training. Strategy. Dealing with the occasional villainous interference or criminal groups that needed attention. Lucas had started to fall into a rhythm, one that kept him busy but always on the edge. Every day brought new challenges, new faces, and new questions. But one thing had changed: He was starting to feel like he had a purpose beyond just surviving.
And then, the inevitable came—the internships.
---
It was a Saturday afternoon when the email arrived. The final exam results were in, and the internships were about to begin. At UA College, internships were as much a part of training as the classes themselves, and for the students, it was their first real experience working under the guidance of pro heroes.
Lucas wasn't excited about it. Not anymore. He had already made his decision—he wasn't going to be a student. He wasn't going to be some starry-eyed kid who worked for a hero agency just to make a name for himself. His path lay in the shadows, in a place where no one cared about the rules.
But the others at the Vigilante Front? They had their own reasons for wanting to stay hidden, for staying in the murky waters between right and wrong. A few of them had reached out to him during the week, asking about his intentions for the upcoming internships. They were curious, but Lucas didn't offer them answers.
A part of him wanted to stay close to the vigilante path he'd carved out, away from the system of heroes that he had no faith in anymore. He was done with all the pretenses. He was done being anyone's idea of what he should be.
---
The day of the internship placement arrived, and the students of Class 1-A gathered in the main hall, each one brimming with excitement or nerves. The bustling energy in the air was palpable. The pro heroes had arrived, ready to evaluate and take on their new interns.
Midoriya was practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he clutched his internship form. He had been assigned to the same hero agency as Bakugo, which made for an interesting pairing, to say the least. But that was Midoriya—always eager, always trying his hardest to be a hero.
On the other side of the room, Momo and Todoroki were already discussing strategy with their assigned pro heroes. Kirishima was excited to be assigned to a hero who specialized in hand-to-hand combat, while Jiro had been assigned to a group that specialized in covert operations.
---
Back at the Vigilante Front's hideout, the group was in full swing, working on their next moves. The streets were dangerous, and their work had only just begun. They had to keep moving, keep doing what they had started.
In this world of heroes and villains, Lucas had found his place—but it wasn't under the banner of any hero agency. It wasn't in the schools or the bright lights of public adoration. It was in the shadows, where he could make a difference on his own terms.
And maybe, just maybe, with the Vigilante Front by his side, he could start to believe that he could control the nightmare that had been his life.