Chapter 60: USCT randomness

  The atmosphere in Class K was as chaotic as ever, students chatting and goofing off before their next session. Kuri and Mina were playfully arguing about whose Catalyst was more versatile, Aliyah was lazily floating in midair while Yelena worked on something in her notebook, and Dhanraj was conjuring tiny golden animals for Sandy to turn into creepy little voodoo dolls. It was just another normal day at USCT.

  Until they noticed the glass container sitting at the front of the room.

  At first, no one really paid attention to it. It was just a medium-sized glass enclosure with food and water inside. But then Raiden squinted at the small, fuzzy creature nestled in a pile of bedding.

  “Is that… a groundhog?” he asked, blinking in confusion.

  The entire room went dead silent.

  Krishna slowly stood up and walked over to the enclosure, peering inside as if his brain was refusing to process what he was seeing. Sure enough, a very round, very lazy-looking groundhog was curled up in the corner, peacefully dozing. The little guy looked so completely out of place in their battlefield of a classroom that it felt almost surreal.

  “No way,” Malachi muttered, standing up as well. “Who the hell would bring a groundhog to class?”

  Yelena pushed up her glasses. “Better question: who even owns a groundhog and why is it 35inch long instead of 20in long accordining to darius's measurement tool from the tech class?”

  “Maybe it’s a science project or dr coby decided to mass produce titan sized rats for america” Toki suggested, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

  That’s when Zephyr the history teacher strolled into the room with his usual calm air, completely unfazed by the growing confusion. He took one look at their bewildered faces and sighed. “Ah, I see you’ve noticed the class pet.”

  “CLASS PET!?” Half of Class K shouted at once.

  Zephyr smirked at their reaction, clearly enjoying the moment. “Well… not exactly. It’s more of a personal pet.”

  The students all turned their attention back to the enclosure, then back to Zephyr, then back to the groundhog, their minds racing.

  “Wait, wait, wait—” Renford raised a hand like he was trying to stop the universe from imploding. “Are you saying someone in this school, this bloodstained and battleharden battlefield of an institution, owns this adorable little fluff ball and who does because even the women heros are just as scary as the male heros and male heros dont seem to be the caring type since most fight in stadium of pain and come out as sociopaths?”

  Zephyr chuckled and walked over to the enclosure, tapping lightly on the glass. The groundhog lazily lifted its head and blinked at him before yawning and going right back to sleep. “His name is Buster,” Zephyr said.

  “Okay,” Hajun said slowly, rubbing his temples. “But whose pet is he?”

  Zephyr’s smirk widened. “Dave’s.”

  Silence.

  Then—

  “DAVE!?”

  Absolute mayhem. The room exploded with disbelief, laughter, and sheer existential confusion.

  “No, that’s gotta be a joke,” Aliyah wheezed, doubling over. “There is no way the Chained Hero, the guy who can incinerate a man with molten chains, owns a freaking groundhog.”

  Kuri’s hands were on her head. “But it makes no sense! I thought Dave didn’t care about anything that wasn’t a fight or a mission! Why would he have a pet?”

  Krishna, who had remained oddly quiet through the whole ordeal, finally muttered, “That… explains some things.”

  Everyone turned to stare at him.

  “What do you mean?” Emma asked suspiciously.

  Krishna shrugged. “I mean, have you ever seen Dave randomly leave in the middle of breaks? And how he’s always muttering about ‘feeding time’ even though he eats at the cafeteria like the rest of us?”

  Yelena gasped as the pieces clicked together. “Wait. That one time he growled at us when we tried to follow him… was he just going to feed Buster?”

  More stunned silence.

  Then, as if summoned by the chaos, the classroom door slammed open.

  And there stood Dave.

  The Chained Hero. The hardened veteran of brutal battles. The man who had survived the Stadium of Pain. He was the very image of gruff, no-nonsense authority, his molten chains wrapped around his arms, his tired eyes scanning the room like he was already done with their nonsense before they even spoke.

  Class K went dead silent.

  His gaze slowly drifted to Buster’s enclosure.

  Then to Zephyr.

  Then to the students, who were all staring at him like they’d just uncovered the juiciest piece of forbidden knowledge in existence.

  “…What?” he grunted, crossing his arms.

  Raiden barely held in a snort. “So, uh… nice groundhog you got there.”

  Dave’s eyes flickered toward the glass enclosure before returning to the class. His jaw tightened. “And?”

  “And?” Aliyah echoed, struggling not to laugh. “AND?! You have a pet groundhog, dude!”

  Dave’s expression didn’t change. “And?”

  Mina, barely holding it together, pointed an accusatory finger at the groundhog. “THAT THING is yours!? YOU, the CHAINED HERO, own a fluffy little Buster!?”

  Dave let out a slow, tired sigh. “Yes. I own a groundhog. Are we done here?”

  “ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

  The entire class erupted again.

  “How long have you had him!?”

  “Why a groundhog!?”

  “DOES HE DO TRICKS?”

  Dave pinched the bridge of his nose, looking so done. “Twenty years. He was abandoned as a baby. I found him. I kept him you might be wondering how the fuck he is living at 21 years when he is supposed to die at 14 well dr coby vigor's biology catalyst can work on animals.”

  The class fell into stunned silence once again.

  “You’ve had him for twenty years?” Krishna finally asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you never told anyone?”

  “No.”

  “…Are you telling me that while you were out here crushing villains, fighting in underground arenas, and nearly getting melted alive, you were also taking care of a groundhog?”

  Dave grunted. “It’s not hard.”

  Toki, his face blank but eyes absolutely screaming, said, “Are you telling me you had a pet this entire time and never mentioned it?”

  Dave shrugged. “Didn’t see the point.”

  “NOT SEE THE—” Yelena cut herself off, rubbing her temples. “Okay, no. I refuse to believe this. You, the most grumpy, terrifying man I have ever met, have been going home to cuddle with a groundhog?!”

  At that, Dave’s eyes darkened. “Who said anything about cuddling?”

  The class went silent.

  Then Krishna, ever the instigator, smirked. “So you do cuddle him.”

  “…I didn’t say that.”

  “So you don’t cuddle him?”

  “…I didn’t say that either.”

  The class lost it. Absolute pandemonium. Laughter filled the room as Dave let out the deepest, most suffering sigh known to mankind.

  Zephyr, the traitor, simply smiled and said, “Alright, settle down, everyone. We still have a lesson to get to.”

  And as the students continued to cackle, Dave simply turned, walked to the glass container, picked up Buster, and—without another word—walked straight out of the room.

  Leaving Class K with infinite blackmail material.

  And the knowledge that their grumpy, battle-hardened teacher was, in fact, a groundhog dad.

  Math Class with Lady Flame (and Her Pet Snake)

  Class K sat in the usual classroom, barely holding it together as the morning bell rang, signaling the start of math class. Everyone was a bit on edge, knowing Lady Flame would be taking the lesson today. Sure, she was ranked #9, powerful and all that, but the idea of sitting through a math class with her in charge... let’s just say, things had a tendency to get heated.

  Lady Flame strutted in, her fiery presence lighting up the room even more than usual. Her eyes were intense, her energy practically crackling in the air, but something was different today. The usual fiery aura wasn’t the only thing drawing attention.

  There was a fucking snake.

  A massive one.

  Lady Flame walked in with a 6-foot-long corn snake coiled around her neck like an oversized scarf. The snake was all white and orange, gliding lazily around her shoulders, its beady eyes lazily scanning the room.

  The entire class froze.

  The snake didn’t look menacing—it actually looked... pretty chill. But the fact that it was a snake, and Lady Flame of all people had it wrapped around her neck in the middle of a math class, made absolutely no sense. The tension in the room was palpable. Everyone stared in complete disbelief.

  “Uhh, Lady Flame?” Toki asked, voice uncharacteristically shaky. “Why—why do you have a snake around your neck? Is this... normal for you?”

  Lady Flame gave him a pointed look, her fiery intensity not softening in the slightest. “What, you’ve never seen a hero with a pet snake?” Her voice was calm, but there was a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, like she was already on the verge of setting something on fire.

  “I just—” Toki started, still trying to process. “You’re the fire hero. Like, you control 3000°C fire, and you... have a pet snake?! That thing’s gonna burn to a crisp if you even get remotely emotional—”

  “His name is Pyro,” Lady Flame interrupted, her tone dead serious as she looked down at the snake, which lazily flicked its tongue. “And no, he won’t burn. He’s immune to heat.”

  “Wait—” Kuri blurted, her eyes wide with disbelief, “immune to heat? How the hell is a snake immune to heat? What kind of mutant snake is this?!”

  Lady Flame’s lips twitched, as if she was trying very hard not to lose her composure. “It’s just a regular corn snake, Kuri. You’d be surprised what you can find when you dig deep enough. Besides, Pyro’s got a very strong constitution. Doesn’t mind the heat.”

  Krishna raised an eyebrow from the back of the room. “So, you’re telling me your pet snake—who has no reason to be able to handle fire—just chills with you while you’re playing with 3000°C temperatures, and it’s fine?”

  Lady Flame's eyes flickered with an almost mischievous glint. “Yes. Are you jealous?”

  “Jealous?” Krishna scoffed, incredulity dripping from his voice. “Lady Flame, we’ve seen you turn entire buildings into ash. And you’re asking me if I’m jealous of your snake and did dr coby do some medical bullshit to that snake and is the reason why its not melting right now”

  The class went quiet as everyone slowly started to process the absurdity of the situation. The entire room was fixated on the snake, as if it was some kind of mythical creature that didn’t belong in a math class with a hero who could literally incinerate them in seconds.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Finally, after what felt like forever, Malachi broke the silence. “Okay, but, like… you’re teaching math with a snake around your neck. Is that safe?”

  Lady Flame turned to the whiteboard, unbothered, as if this was just another Tuesday. “Yeah, I’m teaching math. What’s the problem?”

  “What’s the problem?” Aliyah exclaimed. “Lady Flame, you are the problem! You’ve got a six-foot snake around your neck and you're about to start talking about Pythagorean Theorem a2 + b2 = c2 or whatever while that thing is just—” she pointed dramatically at the snake— “right there! On your neck!”

  “You all are so dramatic.” Lady Flame rolled her eyes, taking her place in front of the class. Pyro, seemingly knowing it was time to settle down, gave one last lazy flick of his tongue and coiled tighter around Lady Flame’s neck like a fiery scarf. “Okay, math time. Now, let’s get serious.”

  Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances. A few students still couldn't stop staring at the snake, unable to look away from its eerily calm demeanor. It was the weirdest math class anyone had ever been to.

  Yelena, still in complete shock, raised her hand, and when Lady Flame acknowledged her, she stammered, “Okay, fine, but—how are we supposed to focus when you’ve got a snake here? This is—this is weird, okay? How can we even pay attention to equations when this thing is just hanging out with you?”

  Lady Flame stared at her for a second. Then she smirked. “Because, Yelena, the best way to focus is to embrace the chaos. Now, let’s talk about fractions.”

  The entire class was now completely spiraling between disbelief, confusion, and a twinge of laughter. But when Lady Flame whipped out the marker to start scribbling on the board, they all reluctantly focused on the math—if only because no one wanted to make eye contact with the snake anymore.

  Class K had seen some weird things in their time, but math class with a fire hero and her pet snake? That was a first.

  And no one would ever forget it.

  Lesson in Control

  Command was in the middle of a lecture on the finer points of syntax and grammar, his usual calm voice filling the classroom as he adjusted his glasses, detailing the subtle intricacies of the English language. His students, mostly half-listening, kept glancing out the window, distracted by the usual commotion outside.

  But then—CRASH!

  A villain, clad in black and wielding some kind of high-tech weapon, barged through the door, ready to wreak havoc.

  Class K froze. Time seemed to slow. The villain smirked, thinking they'd caught everyone off guard.

  But then, with the precision and efficiency that only Command could manage, he extended a hand toward the nearest desk. Without even blinking, the desk folded like paper under his touch, reshaping itself into a sharp, menacing spear.

  The villain didn’t even have time to register the shift in the atmosphere before the spear whipped forward, hitting him square in the cranium with deadly force.

  The class didn’t even blink. It all happened so fast, and then, with a thud, the villain crumpled to the floor, dead before he even knew what hit him.

  Command, still standing at the front of the class, didn’t flinch. He simply glanced at the window, eyeing the chaos outside like it was just another Tuesday.

  "...As I was saying," he continued, his voice completely unfazed. "The difference between a simile and a metaphor lies in the comparison of two distinct things. This, of course, requires understanding the context of each word..."

  The class, having fully processed that someone just died in front of them, blinked in stunned silence. Not a single one of them knew how to react. They could only stare, wide-eyed, as Command calmly walked over to the villain’s lifeless body, picked up the now-useless weapon, and tossed it aside.

  "Now, who can tell me the difference between a subject and an object in a sentence?"

  Command stood motionless, his calm demeanor as unnerving as ever. The class, still processing the brutal efficiency of what had just transpired, sat frozen in disbelief. The villain’s body lay crumpled in the corner, his weapon discarded, as if the entire event were just an unfortunate interruption to an otherwise mundane Tuesday.

  Krishna blinked a few times, his mind trying to catch up with the pace of everything that had happened. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes flickering between Command and the now-dead villain. "What... the heck just happened?" he muttered under his breath, trying to wrap his mind around it.

  Aliyah, sitting next to him, was uncharacteristically quiet. Her usual breezy, cool vibe was gone. She looked at Command with a mix of awe and apprehension. "Did that just... happen?" she whispered, her wide eyes locked on the lifeless body. Normally calm and collected, she was visibly rattled.

  Toki, who normally had an unsettling aura of darkness around him, looked like a deer in headlights. His expression was a mixture of shock and confusion, his mouth hanging slightly open. "That... wasn't supposed to happen," he muttered to no one in particular. His powers involved manipulating darkness, but he couldn’t even process what had just happened in the span of seconds.

  Yelena, always the logical one, furrowed her brow. She seemed to be thinking through every possible angle in her mind, trying to rationalize the scene. But even she couldn’t suppress the rush of unease bubbling up inside her. "He just... made a spear... out of a desk," she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Like it was nothing.”

  Meanwhile, Renford, always trying to remain stoic, sat stiffly in his chair, his hands clenching tightly. His fiery temper was often unpredictable, but even his simmering rage couldn’t rise to the surface. This was something else entirely. "He’s... dead, right?" he said, not even sure if he wanted an answer.

  "Yes, he’s very dead," Malachi replied dryly, as if answering a question that didn’t need asking. He was eerily calm, but even the ice in his demeanor couldn’t hide the fact that he was watching Command, studying him. "That was... quick," he added, clearly both impressed and uneasy.

  Nazeem, normally the guy with a little bit of flair, stared at the body, his expression unreadable. “Are we just gonna... move on like nothing happened?” His tone was edged with a mix of disbelief and confusion.

  Darius, sitting closest to the door, was now staring at the spot where the villain had crumpled to the ground. The old, grizzled hero had seen his fair share of battles, but the casual efficiency with which Command had dispatched the threat sent a shiver down his spine. "Damn," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "I’ve been fighting for years, but that… that was something else."

  Houyan raised a hand tentatively, his voice unsure. "Uh... should we... should we check on him? The guy?" He pointed to the corpse. "Maybe he's not...?"

  "No," Command interrupted, cutting off any further speculation. His voice was still calm, smooth, as though the life-or-death situation was simply another part of his daily routine. "He’s dead. His heart stopped the moment the spear made contact."

  The class collectively exhaled, some of them realizing they had been holding their breath. Emma, who had been oddly silent up until this point, finally spoke up. “How are we... supposed to react? I... I mean, should we, like... clap or something? Or…"

  "Clap?" Command raised an eyebrow, looking at her as if she had just asked the most bizarre question. "No. We should do nothing. This was a matter of control. Understanding that one’s abilities exist not to be used recklessly, but with precision. That is the first lesson in true power."

  Sandy, still processing, raised her hand, her face pale. “Are we supposed to... to be okay with that? I mean, you just killed him. We’re just supposed to... accept it?”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Command responded, his voice now carrying a hint of authority, the kind that made it clear he expected no more questions. “He made the decision to enter my classroom uninvited, to disrupt my lesson. I simply corrected the imbalance.”

  There was a long pause. Nobody seemed to know how to respond to that, except for Dave, who had been silently observing everything in the back of the room. He was not unfamiliar with violence and ruthlessness, but even his hardened exterior twitched in a way that suggested he was taken aback by Command's sheer indifference.

  "Well, damn," Dave muttered, his voice heavy with the weight of experience. “Not how I would’ve handled it, but hell, he didn’t even have time to blink.”

  Command finally turned his gaze back to the class. “Now that we have that out of the way, where were we? Ah, yes... metaphors. The difference between a subject and an object lies in their roles within a sentence—”

  But the class couldn’t follow. Not anymore. The harsh reality of the power dynamics at play in their world was suddenly all too real, and even the most hardened among them couldn’t shake the horror of it all.

  Krishna, still in disbelief, couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “This guy… he’s on a different level…”

  And just like that, the lesson continued, as if nothing had happened.

  Resurrection of Chaos: Junko Gacy's Return

  The atmosphere at USCT was usually vibrant, filled with the usual chatter of students, the hum of machines, and the occasional burst of laughter from one of the many crowded hallways. But that all changed in a flash.

  The ground shook violently, sending ripples through the air like the first tremors before an earthquake. A low, rumbling sound echoed from the outside, followed by a deafening explosion that sent debris flying in all directions. The gates of USCT, once towering and fortified, were obliterated in an instant, raining down twisted metal and shattered stone onto the ground. The shockwave blew open windows, rattled doors, and sent students scrambling for cover. It felt like the entire world had been rocked by a single, unrelenting force.

  As the smoke cleared, standing in the newly-created hole where the gates once stood was the one and only Junko Gacy. His red and white suit, sharp and impeccably tailored, stood out like a grotesque beacon amidst the destruction. His shifting mask—one moment grinning, the next sorrowful, then coldly neutral—seemed to mock the sheer disbelief of everyone who saw it. It was like he was playing a game, one that no one was prepared to understand.

  “What the hell?” someone gasped from a distance, eyes wide with confusion. The questions flooded the air, thick with fear and disbelief. How was he still alive? Didn’t they think he had been neutralized? Hadn’t he died years ago? The thought of him returning was terrifying enough, but now, in the most public, explosive way possible, the questions were mounting, and answers were nowhere to be found.

  Junko took his time, strolling through the wreckage as if the devastation surrounding him was mere background noise. His cane clicked against the ground with every step, the skull handle gleaming ominously in the dim light. With each step, the students and heroes present began to realize just how serious the threat was.

  But how was he back? He had been thought to be long gone after a brutal confrontation with a team of heroes, his body supposedly destroyed in an explosion that had taken him out. Theories had spread, some saying he was dead, others speculating he had disappeared into the shadows, but no one had ever expected this. The last they had heard, his body had been vaporized, nothing left of him but rumors and memories. And yet, here he was, standing in front of them as though he had never left.

  “How is he still here?” murmured a student, wide-eyed in horror.

  “He—he shouldn’t be here. He was—” another voice broke off, the words catching in their throat as they realized how hopeless the situation felt. A flash of memories from previous reports, battles, and rumors collided in their minds. But the ultimate question, the one that everyone was too afraid to ask, hung in the air: Had Junko Gacy found a way to cheat death itself?

  His mask flickered, shifting to a cold smirk as he raised one hand, the other tucked behind his back, and waved it lazily toward the survivors of his chaos. “Ah, you're wondering, aren’t you? How is the spectacle alive? How did the specter return from the flames?”

  His voice was smooth, mocking—like the very thing that had once been destroyed now enjoyed a twisted rebirth. “You think I would stay gone? Stay forgotten?” His voice was like a crackling fire, unpredictable and burning with a terrifying glee. “Oh no, my friends. I am reborn in every explosion. In every moment of destruction, I am reborn.”

  As Junko Gacy’s words settled in, there was an eerie calm that followed. He wasn’t just an explosion; he was chaos itself made flesh. No one knew how he was back, but what was clear was that he was here for a reason—something more disturbing than just revenge or revenge. The heroes, the students, the faculty—everyone in USCT was now left to piece together the truth, which was more horrifying than they could imagine: Junko Gacy wasn't just alive—he was a living force of nature that could not be contained.

  And as he stood there, surveying the wreckage he had caused, his mask shifted again, a grin spreading across it like a deathly shadow. "I’m not done yet," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, the sinister meaning of his words hanging heavy in the air.

  The dust had barely settled after Junko Gacy's bombastic entrance when the unthinkable happened. As the remaining students and faculty scrambled to regroup, their eyes darting between the wreckage and the terrifying figure of Junko, the chaos only escalated. Without warning, Junko snatched someone from the crowd—a figure clad in flames, her eyes wide with surprise and fear.

  It was Lady Flame, the hero who had long been a symbol of fiery justice. She had been near the front lines, surveying the damage when Junko’s explosive force took her by surprise. In an instant, his hand shot out like a strike of lightning, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her off the ground with ease.

  Lady Flame’s fiery powers flared in response, but before she could do anything, Junko’s mask flickered, the empty hollow face staring back at her with unsettling stillness. Her powers, her fighting instinct, all became irrelevant as the raw unpredictability of Junko’s presence took over. His grip was too strong. His chaos, too consuming.

  "You’ll do nicely," Junko murmured in that mocking, silky voice of his. And with that, the ground trembled again as the air around him warped and twisted. The moment felt like a strange slow-motion sequence—Lady Flame’s startled expression, Junko’s cold smirk, and the utter disbelief of the heroes watching from the distance.

  Within seconds, Junko and Lady Flame were gone.

  Bunker of Unsettling Calm

  When Lady Flame came to, she wasn’t in the familiar chaos of the USCT campus anymore. Her vision swam for a moment, but when it cleared, she found herself tied to a bed in a dimly lit, cold, and sterile bunker. The metal walls loomed around her like a cage, but it wasn’t just the surroundings that unnerved her—it was the unsettling calm of her captor, Junko Gacy, who was sitting beside her, almost leisurely.

  He had tied her down securely but with such precision that she couldn’t help but wonder how carefully planned this entire thing was. His shifting mask, still cycling through those unsettling expressions, was now locked in a melancholic frown.

  For a moment, the silence between them was thick and heavy, broken only by the distant hum of something mechanical, some humdrum sound in the background that made everything feel unnervingly normal. But then, to her utter shock and confusion, Junko did something that none of the hero community could ever have imagined: he laid down beside her.

  Lady Flame, still trying to adjust to the situation, tensed up as his arm gently draped around her. His mask flickered to that ever-changing grin, but the smile on his face was soft and absurdly tender.

  "You’re not going anywhere," he whispered, almost as if reassuring himself more than her. "I’ve got you all to myself now."

  At first, Lady Flame struggled against the bonds, her natural instincts kicking in as she tried to fight her way out. But as the hours dragged on, she started to notice something unsettling. Junko was not harming her. In fact, he wasn’t doing anything except... holding her.

  And as the time passed—twenty-four hours of him simply holding her close, snuggling up as if they were in some twisted parody of an innocent embrace—Lady Flame realized something. She was tired. Her body ached from the tension of constantly expecting something horrible to happen, but... nothing did. There was no violence. No cruel jabs or mockery.

  Just... an odd, overwhelming need for closeness.

  Despite everything, she began to relax, inch by inch, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. For the first time in a long while, she felt protected—or at least not actively harmed. She didn’t know if it was some sort of twisted mind game or if Junko had simply cracked, but the sheer weirdness of the situation made her hesitate.

  He was a terrorist, a man whose very presence reeked of chaos, but right now, he was nothing more than an odd, surprisingly tender person. Not that she would ever admit that aloud to anyone. It was just... weird.

  The hours seemed to stretch on like that, Junko’s presence looming as a constant. And in those hours of strange intimacy, Lady Flame began to wonder if she was safe—at least, for now.

  “Why are you doing this?” she finally asked, her voice a bit hoarse from the emotional toll.

  Junko didn’t respond immediately. His mask shifted again, now to a soft, almost reflective expression, before it morphed back into that constant, unpredictable grin.

  “I’m chaos incarnate,” he replied simply. “And chaos needs moments of... relaxation too. It’s like a storm that calms, only to become something far worse.”

  Lady Flame couldn’t help but laugh bitterly under her breath, despite the absurdity of the situation. The man was a living nightmare, but he had a weird way of being human. Which was terrifying in itself.

  But for now... for this twisted, confusing moment, she would simply let herself rest. There was no sense in resisting—at least not yet.

  It wasn’t that Junko wasn’t dangerous. He was. She knew that in her gut. But for now, she would relax in his embrace, not because she trusted him, but because—strangely—he wasn’t killing her. And that was a small victory in a world ruled by chaos.

  As the 24 hours wore on, Junko's bizarre cuddle-fest continued. His hands were gentle, as though he was cherishing some unspoken, twisted comfort. The heroes and students at USCT were frantically trying to find her, but for now, Lady Flame’s survival was a mystery.

  But what remained clear to everyone was that Junko Gacy was not done yet. And whatever his next move would be, it was sure to be even more shocking and chaotic than anything they could imagine.