Blue light from countless monitors bathes Daigo Kiyoshi's sharp features as he sits in a high-backed chair, gazing at a holographic map of Hosu city. Tiny glowing dots move across the map, each representing a person or object he's tagged. His fingers hover above a holographic keyboard, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he speaks aloud to no one.
"Look at them. Scurrying ants tethered to chaos they call life. They cling to brittle bodies, stumbling through a maze of limitations, unable to comprehend the flaws of their mind numbing existences."
Daigo rises, his coat shifting like a shadow around him. He walks slowly toward the central monitor, which displays live footage from the data he has received from his tags. Heroes in their flashy costumes, civilians in their mundane routines, and even villains lurking in the shadows.
This world is crooked, warped, unsalvageable. A billion voices crying for justice, freedom, survival—wasting energy on a broken system that has failed them for centuries. My quirk, no, My purpose, is to build something better. A new order. No weakness, no decay. A realm where humanity sheds it's shackles of flesh and becomes infinite."
He gestures, and the holographic map expands, revealing the entire replicated city of Hosu. Every building, every streetlight, every minor detail rendered in stunning, surreal clarity. His eyes glint coldly as he takes it in.
"You'll resist of course. Heroes, Villains, fools. You'll cling to the past, to your flawed notion of freedom and peace. But in my Virtual Domain, none of that matters. Here, you will evolve or be erased."
But he was stumped, he had already got high members of the HPSC and government to work with him. But one of those sneaky rats had some connections with someone he didn't want to meet. All For One. And now he is stumped, but only slightly.
You can still turn a bad situation good. And he wasn't going to cry now and squander what was to come.
This is not cruelty. This is a mercy. Evolution demands sacrifice. I am the architect for the future."
His voice dropped to a chilling whisper as he adjusts his visor like eyewear, the circuits on his coat glowing faintly.
"Welcome to the next stage of humanity."
___
The boardroom radiated an unsettling sterility, every surface polished to a mirror sheen. The air smelled faintly of ozone, a synthetic tang carried from the purifier vents. The chairs surrounding the obsidian table were plush but angular, designed for power and discomfort in equal measure. Each seat was occupied by individuals whose faces wore masks of authority, their postures rigid, their expressions carefully controlled. This was the beating heart of society's elite, the orchestrators of heroes, policies and public perception.
Daigo Kiyoshi stood at the head of the table, clearly the youngest one at the table. He didn't even look like someone who should be at this table, he was a tall figure clad in attire with what these older men would only view as silly little tech gadgets.
The faintly glowing blue circuits etched into his coat pulsated rhythmically, their light reflecting in the wide, sharp eyes of his audience. His pale skin, his jet black hair gave him a spectral quality under the recessed lighting, but it was his grey eyes—intense and calculating—that silenced the room as he began to talk.
"Hosu city," Daigo began, his voice was commanding, enthralling and filled with dramaticism. "Within the next week, it will be a stage for a revolutionary experiment."
The holographic projector on the table buzzed softly, flickering to life to display a three-dimensional overview map of Hosu. Every street, every alley, every architectural nuance appeared in sharp relief, rotating slowly.
Daigo gestured toward the projection. "For months, I have been preparing. Every corner of that city has been tagged, including my usually tagging of things outside of that city—clothing shipments, support items, infrastructure. Each object has become a part of my blueprint for a fully immersive world that will challenge the very fabric of our society."
A murmur rippled through the room, subdued but insistent. One man, tall and broad shouldered with greying temples, leaning forward. His name Naoki Morioka, a senior government advisor known for his more overt conservative leanings. "And these civilians? Are you suggesting you'll drag them into the madness unprepared?"
"Civilians?" Daigo echoed, his tone so cold it drew a visible shiver from a younger aide seated near the table. "Doesn't matter, they serve the game."
Naomi Tachibana, a high-ranking HPSC official with razor sharp cheekbones and an even sharper tongue, narrowed her eyes. "This reeks of madness and senseless stupidity. I don't know how you got most of the people in this room to play into your delusions but you trying to play God will only bring about terrible repercussions when this all fails. It's barbaric."
Daigo's lips curled to a faint, chilling smile. "Barbaric? You dare speak of barbarism while seated in the very institute that sanctioned the Eden Project? Around the same people?"
The hologram shifted, now displaying documents and photographs of a boy that looked a lot like the one in front of them, only younger and a lot more frightened. The documents were marked Eden Project: Subject #037.
"I am a product of your ambitions," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "I was engineered to surpass the limits of humanity. And when I did, I was discarded. You may be too young to have been a part of it, but they all called it progress."
The room fell silent, a majority of people in this room knew of the project and even signed off on it going through. This young man in front of them, was a product of their delusions first.
"The Hero Killer Stain," Daigo continued. The hologram flickered again, this time overlaying a pattern of red markers across Hosu. "A man who's actions have already and will continue to fracture the public trust in heroes. His pattern is clear, Five kills in one city, he does this to another two and then shifts his trajectory. Based on his movements, Hosu will be next. His presence alone will attract figures who have most likely already been tagged, so the process of them being dragged in to my game will go smoothly."
Naoki Morioka frowned, fingers drumming against the table. "And what's the endgame here Kiyoshi? What's the purpose of all this?"
"The purpose?" Daigo stepped closer to the hologram, his eyes gleaming with fervour that bordered on fanaticism. "To expose the flaw in our society. To show that the way forward for humanity is to find ways to immortalise oneself and continue living, continue evolving."
Many in this room have heard this speech before. Daigo Kiyoshi's virtual world power allows him to literally create virtual worlds, he just needs copies of data to replicate the type of world he wants to create. Daigo believes that humanity's way forward is becoming part of this data, his way of becoming immortal.
Just a stupid and idealistic kid, only on the cusp of reaching 20 years old. A stupid kid with a lot of power and sway.
"Other than it being a cool game you can all watch, this will show that survival is still the number 1 currency."
At the far end of the table, Takao Hoshino, a wiry man with glasses glinted ominously under the light, leaned back in his chair with an amused smirk. "Survival huh? That sounds like the kind of spectacle people will kill for. Literally." He was really proud of that one.
Kenji Yamada, his companion grinned. "Imagine opening the betting pools for this with the people we already know will be involved. My God, the money we'll make."
They were so sure because of Daigo's tags. His tags collect data of everything, Objects he can then replicate in his game world and if people are wearing his tags and they are close enough to Hosu City, they will be transported to his game world. All their data would also be collected allowing for a continual live broadcast for the nation to see.
His tags have a lifespan of three months, but that was fine, since he was with the government and even some influential people of the HPSC, he has been able to get his tags on almost anything necessary.
The tags are as small as an ant, allowing for them to even be weaved into clothing and no one noticing, he's had a hand in support items being sent out to heroes, clothing being sold, school uniforms to hero schools, apart from Shiketsu. They had their own private supplier from overseas.
So most of them had a clue of who would be included, Class 1-A of UA high were getting a lot of headlines for villains attacking them, there names were of course private to the public, but everyone here had looked over the recent records. Since they were the new first years, they must have a tag in one of their uniforms or even support items for their costumes.
Even villains or just random street thugs, Daigo has hired specific people in law enforcement to sell firearms and other weapons to them, which all have his tags.
"Perhaps I should remind you." Daigo said evenly, "That I have already had this plan in motion for three months now. The tags are set. The rules are written. Hosu will be the crucible in which your heroes will be forged—or broken."
The projection shifted again, this time displaying profiles of UA's first year students. The table buzzed with intrigue as the names appeared: Todoroki Shoto, Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Uraraka Ochaco, Kendo Itsuka, Yaoyorozu Momo. Many more names from their A class and B class.
Student's from other hero schools were also shown too just to add to the excitement from some of them.
"Tagged upon shipment," Daigo said, his voice devoid of apology and full of glee. "Place your bets on how these students will fare without their safety net."
More names were being thrown around of people that popped up on screen. Chisaki Kai-Overhaul, Dabi, Shuichi Iguchi- Spinner, Chizome Akaguro- Hero Killer Stain and a name that has been building up steam as of recent, Sōryū... real name Kobe Arakawa.
Yamada Kenji broke the tension with a chuckle. He was probably one of the older men in the room. "You know Kiyoshi, for all your theatrics, I have to admit this could be quite the spectacle of the century. Peace and complacency has made a great majority soft. This game? It'll greatly weed out the weaklings."
He smiled at that, happy that his ideas and creation was getting so much praise. He was happy, everyone in the room was happy. That was it, the day was over and he could now go home and finish the final touches.
Unbeknown to him and everyone in the room. There was a button flickering red underneath the table, recording every spoken work spoken in that room.