"Well, at least that's a relief. So… now what? You planning to keep snooping around in my mind?" Lady Nagant asked, raising an eyebrow with a skeptical look.
Mewtwo kept his gaze on the large door ahead, the one that led deeper into the mental version of the school hallway. "Honestly? Yes," he replied. "But more than that, I want to see if the same thing I saw in the director appears here too."
Kaina narrowed her eyes, her tone shifting into a mix of curiosity and irritation. "The thing you saw in the director? What thing? You didn't mention anything before—just said nothing happened."
Her voice rose slightly in disbelief, and she could already feel the beginning of a headache. This kid was going to make her blood pressure spike one of these days.
Mewtwo turned his head slightly, his tone calm but serious. "It was like a shadow. After spending a long time in his mind, something... manifested. I don't know exactly what it was, but it wasn't normal. I want to know if that happens to everyone eventually—or if it was unique to the director."
He paused, then added with a note of concern, "Either way, it changes things. Whether it's a universal phenomenon or something specific to him, it means the mind is more layered and unpredictable than I thought. And that means I need to be more careful going forward."
Kaina crossed her arms and exhaled through her nose. "Sounds like a plan. Let's do it, then."
This time, Mewtwo stepped toward the door again, but just as he reached out, he hesitated. His hand hovered inches from the surface before he glanced back at her.
"Actually... why don't you try opening it?" he suggested. "It's your mind, after all. I think it might work better if I'm invited in, rather than forcing it."
Kaina gave a small, skeptical nod, but didn't argue. She stepped forward and placed her hand on the door. The moment her fingers touched the surface, an unexpected wave of hesitation crept over her.
There were things buried in her mind—memories, thoughts, regrets—that she didn't want anyone else to see. Things even she didn't always want to face. What if he stumbled into something she had locked away for a reason?
Still, she pressed forward, pushing the door gently. At first, it moved like any regular door—smooth and silent on its hinges. But with each inch it opened, the feeling in her chest grew heavier, as if something deep inside was warning her to stop.
Then, without warning, a hand emerged from the space beyond the doorway.
Both she and Mewtwo froze.
It wasn't a normal hand—it was black, indistinct, more shadow than flesh. And before they could react, it pushed the door closed from the inside, sealing it shut again with a loud click that echoed through the hallway.
They both stepped back instinctively, the hairs on their arms standing up. Whatever that thing was, it didn't belong. And it had clearly seen them.
Kaina's voice broke the stunned silence. "What the hell was that thing?"
"I don't know… maybe your subconscious? Or something like that?"
Mewtwo replied, his voice thoughtful. "We are inside your mind, after all."
Kaina stared at the door, her mind racing as she pieced things together.
The shape of that hand—it wasn't random. It had long, bony fingers and skin like tar. The image was burned into her memory, unmistakably familiar. It looked exactly like the hand of a monster from an old horror movie she'd watched as a kid. That scene had terrified her back then.
Now it had resurfaced, right at the moment she felt fear and uncertainty about letting Mewtwo in.
Her eyes widened with sudden clarity. "That thing… it was my fear. Or a reflection of it. I hesitated to let you in, and then—bam—it showed up. I felt doubt, anxiety about you seeing too much... and it manifested."
Mewtwo nodded slowly, taking in her words. It made perfect sense. They were inside her mind—her personal space shaped by memory, emotion, and thought. If she felt fear strongly enough, it could take form. That explained why her mindscape was a school—this place must've held significance for her, consciously or not.
The implications were unsettling. If emotions could become real within the mind, then every person's inner world could be filled with hidden creatures, twisted by memory or trauma.
And if fear could do this… what else might be lurking in the deeper layers of the human psyche?
Creepy as it was, it was also an incredible revelation. Mewtwo was learning more than he expected. He now had something real—practical insight into how emotion and memory influenced the mind's structure.
But one question remained: how did Quirks affect the mind? Surely they had some mental impact. For example, a person like Endeavor—cold, intense, relentless—probably had a mental world that felt like a frozen wasteland.
"If that hand was your fear… then what the hell was the giant shadow I saw in the director's mind?" Mewtwo said with a frustrated sigh. "Every time I find something new, I just end up with more questions than answers."
"That's how life works," Kaina replied dryly, giving him a half-smile. Then, without hesitation, she pushed the door open again.
This time, nothing reached out. No strange hands. No shadows.
On the other side was a clean, quiet hallway—polished floors, bright lights, and lockers lining the walls. It looked exactly like Mewtwo remembered from his time at the school.
He glanced at her, eyebrow raised. "Well… no creepy monsters this time."
"I kept myself in check," Kaina said with confidence. "I think if I stay calm, we'll be fine. As long as I'm in control, nothing weird should pop up."
She took a step forward into the hallway, her boots echoing softly on the tile. "Come on," she added, her voice firm but curious. "I want to understand more about what's in here… about me."
Mewtwo followed her into the hallway. The place felt familiar at first glance, but the deeper they walked, the more it became clear—this wasn't just any school. It was subtly off, like a dream version of reality shaped by memory and emotion.
The decorations were different, the atmosphere slightly surreal. People he didn't recognize passed by in brief flashes—figures from Kaina's life, perhaps. The walls were lined with posters from old movies, and paintings that seemed out of place in a school. But they all shared one thing in common: they felt personal.
He quickly deduced this was a reflection of Kaina's interests, memories, and attachments.
Even the classrooms weren't labeled with the usual numbers. Instead, they bore strange, specific titles. One door read Mission 1, another said Ryukyu. One said Home, and others were labeled with names of people Mewtwo had never heard of.
There was no obvious order, no traditional structure. But it was clear—each room represented something important from her life.
Eventually, they arrived at the part of the school where, in the real world, the casino used to be. But here, the door had a different name.
"Lady Nagant," Mewtwo read aloud.
He and Kaina exchanged a glance. The name hung heavy in the air. Whatever was behind that door, it clearly held deep meaning for her. The room was larger than the others, the door a bit more ornate, as if it had been given special importance in the architecture of her mind.
"Should we go in?" Mewtwo asked cautiously, his tone respectful.
"Yes, we should," Kaina replied without hesitation. "What's in there… I'm ready to show you. At least this part."
She stepped forward and opened the door. This time, there was no fear, no pause—just purpose.
But what they saw inside wasn't what either of them expected.
The room didn't resemble the casino at all. It was round, almost like a gallery, and bathed in soft, ambient light.
The walls were covered in large, high-resolution images—snapshots of Kaina from different points in her life. Some showed her in action, working on high-stakes missions. A sleek black rifle hung on the wall like a trophy. There were photos of her in the field, neutralizing threats, surveilling targets, doing her job with precision.
But what stood out the most wasn't the room's design, or even the weapons.
In the center of the room stood another version of Kaina. Not Lady Nagant—at least, not exactly. She looked younger, maybe seventeen. Her stance was rigid, controlled. Her Quirk was activated, the air around her charged with cold, deadly focus. She wore the original Lady Nagant suit—a tight, leather tactical outfit designed for espionage and stealth.
Everything about her radiated perfection: the spotless uniform, the flawless posture, the sharpness in her expression.
If Mewtwo had to describe her in one word, it would be perfect.
She reviewed the images again and again—battles, choices, moments that defined Kaina's path. Her expression remained unreadable until her gaze settled on a specific scene: Kaina, alone, drinking wine, quietly planning to kill the director just to end up in prison. That one image drew a visible reaction—disgust twisted across her face.
The younger version of Lady Nagant didn't acknowledge them at first.
She stood still, absorbed in the loop of memories projected around the room. After a minute or so of silence, Kaina and Mewtwo cautiously stepped inside.
Only then did the younger Nagant speak.
"You know," she said coldly, still facing the images, "no matter how many times I look through this… it's all wrong. None of this is what we were supposed to become. You had potential—real potential—and you wasted it."
She finally turned, her sharp eyes locking onto Kaina. She didn't even glance at Mewtwo. He was irrelevant to her—this confrontation was personal.
Kaina froze in place. Mewtwo stepped forward instinctively, preparing to raise a psychic shield. But before he could, she raised her hand with effortless precision. A wave of force swept him off his feet, dropping him to one knee. The air around her pulsed with quiet authority.
"I have no quarrel with you," the younger Nagant said without even looking at him. "You helped her stay on the rails—helped her hold the pieces together when she nearly lost herself. But now, stay silent. This conversation is between me and... me."
In that instant, Mewtwo understood exactly what she was. She wasn't just a memory or a version of Kaina. She was the part of her shaped by ideals, pressure, and expectation—the version molded by the standards no one could ever reach. The moral compass pointed at the sky. The super-ego.
And judging by the power she displayed and the certainty in her voice, she was likely stronger—at least here—than the real Kaina. She was everything Kaina could have been on a flawless path.
The younger Nagant stepped forward, arms crossed, voice low and sharp.
"Tell me, little me… how did we end up like this?" she asked, voice laced with bitterness. "We were meant for greatness. Raised with discipline.
Trained with purpose. And now look at you—on the edge of collapse, about to throw everything away and die like some two-bit villain. For what? A man so obsessed with control he can't even see beyond his own damn shoes?"
She didn't stop.
"You make me sick. I can hardly look at you. Even physically—you're weaker than you should be. Where's your strength? Your precision? And you expect me to just let you exist in here? If not for that kid beside you, everything would've come crashing down. Do you honestly believe our parents would be proud of this version of us? Do you think our younger selves would look at you and see anything worth saving?"
Her voice dropped, cold and final.
"You broke yourself. We were supposed to be better."
The real Kaina stood motionless, eyes wide, tears welling. She recognized this version of herself—understood exactly what she was facing. As a former hero, she had studied psychology. But she had never expected, one day, to encounter this part of her.
"I know," Kaina whispered, then louder, her voice trembling. "I know everything you're saying. I could have done better. You're right. If Mom and Dad saw what I've become… they'd feel more than disappointment. I feel it every day."
She took a shaky breath, forcing herself to meet the younger version's eyes.
"I stopped training. I let myself fade. I'm supposed to be smart—and I am. I should have noticed the signs sooner. I should've seen things coming. But…"
Her voice broke for a moment.
"…I was afraid," she said, barely above a whisper.