Inside the Bureau's Arena, after parting ways with Lady Nagant, Mewtwo floated quietly through the Arena inside the building.
This place, usually used for high-level training and experimentation, was now his personal space for exploration. He had come here to test his new discoveries about the mind.
Hovering mid-air in his usual meditative posture, Mewtwo sat with his legs crossed, his long tail swaying slowly from side to side. The air around him was still, heavy with silence. He closed his eyes, drawing inwards with focused intent. It was the same mental process he used to communicate telepathically—or more recently, to step into someone else's mind.
As he concentrated, the world seemed to twist around him. For a brief moment, gravity reversed, colors stretched and distorted like liquid light, as if he were being pulled through a swirling tunnel of shifting hues. Then, suddenly, the sensation stopped.
When he opened his eyes, the environment had completely changed.
Mewtwo blinked a few times, disoriented. What he saw made no sense.
Bubbles? They floated slowly past him, shimmering like translucent spheres. He had expected to land within the familiar expanse of his mindscape—but this didn't feel familiar at all.
"Where... am I?" he muttered aloud.
Before him stood a large glass surface. As he shifted slightly, he felt resistance—his body suspended in liquid. He was submerged in some kind of fluid chamber, yet breathing normally. The air—or whatever surrounded him—was cool and thick, the space around him cloaked in a dim, unnatural gloom.
This isn't right.
The place didn't feel imagined. It felt real. Too real. Every sensation—the pressure of the liquid, the temperature, the faint hum of unseen machines—convinced him this was no dream. And yet, it couldn't be anything but his mind. It was foreign, unsettling, unfamiliar even to him.
Then, faintly, he heard voices—distant echoes, muffled like sound behind glass.
The voices… they're outside. That's where I should be.
With that realization, his instincts kicked in.
His eyes lit up, and a pulse of psychic energy surged from within.
The chamber cracked. In the next instant, the glass exploded outward with force, shards scattering like crystal rain. The liquid poured out around him as he floated upward, landing softly on solid ground.
He stood in the middle of a lab.
A cold, sterile facility surrounded him—dim lights, humming monitors, strange instruments lining the walls. But there were no people.
The voices he'd heard just moments ago had vanished. The lab was completely silent.
He floated forward, scanning the space. Everything here was peculiar—advanced, but not contemporary. It looked like someone's outdated vision of the future. Retro-futuristic. Like a laboratory imagined decades ago, built from the dreams of another era.
"What is this place... is this really my mind?" Mewtwo muttered, drifting slowly through the empty room.
He passed a row of terminals, each displaying detailed information—about him. Data screens showed his combat skills, energy levels, tactical abilities, even personal preferences. Friends. Memories. Emotional triggers. Every piece of information he knew about himself was catalogued and organized here.
Everything I know about myself is here.
He paused, thoughtful. "Is this... my conscious self? My self-image?" It was the only conclusion that made sense. All of this—every file, every fact—was made up of things he already knew. There was nothing new, no hidden truth waiting to be uncovered.
Maybe I appeared here because this is the part of my mind I'm most aware of... interesting.
He turned, scanning the room again
.
So… if I move from here…
Just as he had intended, Mewtwo moved forward, searching for a way out. He didn't want to force anything open—this was his mind, after all. Even if it was just a mindscape, damaging something here might have consequences. It wasn't worth the risk.
Instead, he floated carefully through the lab, scanning the walls for any kind of exit. Eventually, he found something—an archway rather than a proper door. It stood open, quietly inviting. He passed through without hesitation.
On the other side was a long hallway, its walls lined with open rooms. None of them had doors, and he could enter any of them freely. As he moved along the corridor, he peeked into the chambers.
Each one contained fragments of his past—his early childhood, his time at U.A., the hotel incident, the moment he earned his hero license, the raid against the villains. All of it was laid out like chapters in a living museum.
But there was nothing unfamiliar here. No secrets. Just memories—everything he already knew about himself.
Near the end of the hallway, something finally broke the pattern. A door. The only one in the entire place.
It stood tall and solid—metallic and cold—with strange symbols etched across its surface. Unlike the others, this door was sealed tight.
Mewtwo floated closer and examined the lock mechanism holding the two halves together. It looked complex, almost archaic, and impossible to open without a key.
At first, he hesitated. He didn't touch the door. He didn't need to.
His eyes suddenly glowed with energy, a flicker of recognition sparking within. Somehow, he knew. The key wasn't a thing—it was him.
The door reacted instantly, clicking as if it had been waiting for him all along.
The locking mechanism began to shift, gears turning deep within the metal frame. A low hum echoed through the hallway as the intricate machinery activated. After several seconds, the door began to part, opening slowly with a heavy creak. A soft light spilled through the widening gap, flooding the hallway with warmth.
What lay beyond took Mewtwo by surprise.
A vast green plain stretched out before him, bathed in sunlight. Rolling hills of grass reached out into the horizon. Dotted among them were ancient ruins, their stone structures cracked and aged but beautiful. Flowers had taken root everywhere—growing through the broken walls, curling around old statues, blooming across every surface in a brilliant display of color.
Pillars rose from the earth, reminiscent of ancient Greek architecture, their worn surfaces draped in vines. Among them stood statues—figures of various shapes and sizes. Some resembled people with exaggerated features, strange limbs, or animal traits.
Mutant-type Quirks? he thought, hovering forward cautiously.
The place felt sacred, untouched. Peaceful.
He drifted further into the field, drawn by the quiet beauty of it all—wondering, maybe for the first time, if there were deeper parts of himself he had yet to uncover.
He couldn't quite make sense of it all. All around him were statues—beautiful, strange creatures unlike anything he'd ever seen. A few of them stood out more than the rest. One in particular caught his attention: a bird, pure white like it was carved from marble. Its body looked like it was made entirely of spines—its head, wings, and tail were all sharp, almost threatening, yet there was something graceful about it. The statue lay half-buried in the ground, tilted on its side as if it had fallen from the sky long ago.
Another statue nearby had a completely different aura. It was adorable in a way—a chubby, dragon-like creature with a single horn on its forehead, tiny wings too small to fly, and a round belly. It looked more like a plush toy than a mythological beast.
There were more statues scattered across the area, each one unique. Some were buried deeper than others, but none of them resembled anything Mewtwo had seen before—not in memory, not in books, not in dreams.
Carvings lined some of the stone surfaces—etched drawings that depicted even more creatures, their forms twisted and abstract, yet undeniably intentional. The entire scene felt surreal, like walking through an ancient dream that had somehow taken physical form. The further Mewtwo moved through the field, the more wonder filled him. It was overwhelming in the most peaceful way.
At one point, he stopped moving altogether. He simply sat down among the flowers and ruins, letting the atmosphere wash over him. For a while, he did nothing but breathe and observe. It felt... right.
When Mewtwo eventually turned to look behind him, the door he had come through was still there, now appearing like a simple, unremarkable entryway into an underground structure—ordinary, compared to the world around him. He barely gave it a second glance.
Instead, he focused once again on the world before him. The sky above stretched wide and blue, and the breeze that drifted through the air was gentle and cool. For a brief, perfect moment, he closed his eyes and simply existed.
"Is this really my mind?" he wondered silently. "So calm… I didn't think it would look like this. And those creatures—what are they? What do they mean? Am I meant to find something else here?"
The questions hung in his thoughts as he lay back in the soft grass, eyes scanning the sky. Eventually, he floated upward again with a small burst of telekinetic energy, drifting forward across the landscape. The massive garden seemed endless, like it could stretch on forever.
Then, something new appeared in the distance.
A large, circular platform made of stone stood ahead. Intricate patterns were carved into its surface—archaic, symmetrical.
Around the edges stood four statues, each bearing a symbol rather than a creature. The symbols were strange: a circle crossed by an "X," and along the outer arms of the "X," two arcs curved outward, almost completing a second circle.
But none of that was what truly captured Mewtwo's attention.
At the center of the stone platform stood another figure—one that mirrored the experience he'd had with Kaina. It was him. Or rather, a version of himself. Yet there were a few clear differences.
First, this other Mewtwo was more imposing. He radiated a quiet intensity.
His expression was utterly serene, unreadable, and he didn't even glance in Raiden's direction. He simply gazed out at the horizon, as if taking in the beauty of the world without a care. There was something unsettling about his stillness—like the calm of deep water hiding something powerful beneath.
Then there was the matter of his size. Raiden, in his current transformed form, stood at 1.9 meters, already taller than most. But the figure before him was noticeably larger—just slightly over two meters tall. It wasn't a drastic difference, but enough to be impossible to ignore.
His body was lean, but every part of him looked stronger. His tail was thicker, his muscles more defined, as if refined by purpose rather than brute force. He didn't just look powerful—he looked perfected.
Raiden floated toward the center of the platform, slowly approaching the other version of himself. As he drew closer, he descended gently, his feet touching the ancient stone. He stopped at a respectful distance—about seven meters away—and simply stood there, uncertain of what to say.
"It took you long enough to get here," said the other Mewtwo at last, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. His voice was the same as Raiden's, yet it carried something unfamiliar—a strange mix of calmness and authority. A voice that didn't ask for attention, but commanded it all the same.
A full minute passed before Raiden responded.
"You probably already know this," he began, "but I'm still figuring out how this place works. Honestly, my powers broke everything I thought I understood about Quirks. I used to think my abilities were just… special techniques—each one limited, like individual Quirks. That was my biggest mistake."
The other Mewtwo nodded slightly, finally acknowledging his presence. "I know," he said.
"That's the only reason I won't waste time correcting you. You're on the right path, even if you've stumbled. You could be doing better—much better—but there's still time to fix that. It won't be easy, but you already know the truth: your power comes from your mind. If you want to understand your abilities, truly understand them, this is where you need to be."
He turned and locked eyes with Raiden. His expression was incredibly calm, almost unnervingly so—like he had already seen every possible outcome and accepted them all.
"And you'll teach me?" Raiden asked, cautiously hopeful.
The other Mewtwo slowly shook his head. "No," he replied. "I'll show you—but everything you learn, you'll have to discover for yourself. I don't know what you don't know. I only know what you can't see yet—things that already exist inside you."
He stepped closer, still composed and steady. "Everything I show you, you're already capable of understanding. You've already grasped it, deep down—you just haven't realized it yet. I'm the version of you that never made a wrong turn. The path you could've taken, if every step had been perfect. But I'm still you. I know what you know. And I can't teach you what you already carry within."
Raiden stood in silence, letting the words settle. This time, he wasn't just hearing them—he was trying to process them, to really understand.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt something shift.