Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 596: This Is Our City (Part 1)
Several minutes later—
The atmosphere in the hidden lab had dropped.
Not loud.
Not active.
Just—
Low.
Everyone had settled into their own space.
Their own thoughts.
Their own concerns.
---
Across the lab—
Summer moved.
Quick.
Focused.
Her earlier fear had thinned out, replaced by something else entirely.
Curiosity.
She moved from one station to another, eyes scanning screens, panels, structural layouts. Her fingers hovered near interfaces but never touched—waiting, assessing.
Winter stayed beside her.
Steady.
"Most of these systems are currently dormant," she said. "However, core functions can be restored with minimal time investment."
Summer leaned slightly closer to one console, eyes narrowing as she took in the layout.
"And this?" she asked.
"Environmental control," Winter replied. "Airflow, pressure stabilization, filtration."
A pause.
"I can restore partial function if necessary."
Summer nodded slowly.
Her attention already shifting.
"So... this place... it’s like a backup lab?"
Winter tilted her head slightly.
"That would be an acceptable interpretation."
Summer didn’t question further.
She moved again.
Already onto the next thing.
---
Below the main platform—
At one of the workstations—
The others stayed gathered.
Sylvia sat close to Claire, shoulders slightly hunched as she stared at her phone. Her fingers moved quickly across the screen.
Text after text.
*Are you okay?*
*Please answer.*
*Where are you?*
No reply.
Her typing picked up pace.
Claire stood just beside her, phone pressed to her ear.
Her voice stayed low.
Controlled.
"Yes... is everyone safe?"
A pause.
"...good. See to it that—"
She turned slightly, stepping a bit further aside, keeping her voice contained as she continued.
Not far from them—
Samantha stood with Amanda beside her, both leaning slightly toward the phone in her hand.
"We’re just asking, mom," Samantha said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just in case... please move safe..."
Her brows pulled together.
"...no, listen—"
---
At the main monitors—
Don and Charles stood side by side.
Watching.
The feeds shifted between different angles of the city.
From above.
From street level.
From distant aerial capture.
What they saw—
Didn’t improve.
One of the towering sprouts—
Collapsed.
Its upper section broke apart as sustained attacks tore through it. The structure tilted—
Slow at first—
Then faster—
It fell sideways, crashing into a nearby tower.
BOOOOM—!
The impact sent debris outward in a wide burst, chunks of concrete and glass scattering across surrounding blocks.
Another sprout—
Still standing—
Lashed out violently.
Its vines moved faster now, whipping through the air—
WHOOOM—!
A fighter jet passed too close—
One vine struck—
CRACK—!
The wing snapped at the impact point.
The jet spiraled—
Trailing smoke—
Before disappearing behind a line of buildings.
Charles’s jaw tightened slightly.
He didn’t comment.
Then—
A soft beep.
His phone.
He lifted it immediately, eyes scanning the message.
His expression changed.
A frown forming.
"...something is happening," he said.
Don turned toward him.
"What?"
Charles opened his mouth—
But stopped.
Both of them shifted.
At the same time.
Toward the monitors.
One of the screens flickered—
Then its border began flashing.
Red.
Pulse.
Pulse.
On the feed—
The camera adjusted.
Zooming slightly.
Higher.
Toward the sky.
Through the cloud layer—
Shapes emerged.
Small.
At first.
Then clearer.
The missile heads.
Descending.
Slow.
Breaking through the clouds one by one.
Don’s eyes narrowed.
There it was.
---
Behind them—
Claire’s voice cut off mid-sentence.
She pulled the phone slightly away from her ear, her attention snapping toward the monitor.
Her steps carried her forward.
Quick.
She stopped beside Don.
Sylvia noticed the movement.
Her fingers paused.
Then resumed—
Faster now.
But she didn’t look up.
Not yet.
Samantha did.
Her head turned, gaze following Claire.
"...okay, we’ll call you back, mom, but please—this might not just be happening in Santos ci—"
The line cut.
She lowered the phone slowly.
A breath left her.
"...great."
Amanda let out a quieter sigh beside her.
"I knew she wouldn’t listen."
Samantha nodded once, rubbing lightly at her temple.
"...thank goodness Fabio isn’t in the city, but what about—"
Amanda placed a hand on her shoulder.
Firm.
Grounding.
"You have to stop," she said. "You can’t worry about everyone, Sam."
Samantha pressed her lips together.
Tried to respond—
But didn’t.
Her gaze shifted.
Toward the monitor.
Claire’s voice came first.
Low.
"...oh my goodness..."
That was enough.
Samantha and Amanda both turned fully.
Their eyes locked onto the screen.
Above the city—
The missile heads continued their descent.
Slow.
Spreading.
And getting closer.
---
At the front—
Don didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
He just watched.
This was it.
Whatever came next—
Was about to begin.
On the monitor—
The view cleared.
No obstruction.
No distortion.
Just—
A direct feed.
The missile heads descended from the skies.
Spread across the city like a falling net.
Don’s jaw tightened.
Beside him—
Charles’s expression hardened, eyes narrowing as he tracked multiple points at once.
Claire stood just behind them, her brows drawn together, gaze fixed forward.
None of them spoke.
Behind them—
Samantha and Amanda hadn’t moved.
Not even a step.
Their eyes stayed locked on the screens, bodies still, as if shifting even slightly would make what they were seeing worse.
---
Across the lab—
Winter stood beside Summer at the far end of the platform.
In front of them—
The mechanoid.
Large.
Incomplete.
Its frame stood suspended by multiple support rigs, exposed sections revealing internal structures not yet sealed. Cables ran along its limbs, some connected, others left hanging.
Winter had been speaking.
"This unit appears to be a newer generation model," she said. "However, construction remains incomplete."
Her gaze moved across its frame.
"Primary integration between the neural relay core and structural response systems has not been finalized. This would create instability during active deployment."
She stepped slightly to the side, analyzing further.
"Additionally, the power distribution network is uneven. If activated in its current state, it would likely suffer internal overload within minutes."
A pause.
Then—
"There are also inconsistencies in the actuator alignment. Movement precision would be compromised."
She stopped.
Mid-analysis.
"...this is troubling."
Summer blinked.
"What?"
Winter turned her head toward her.
From her eye—
A projection extended outward—
A thin beam forming a flat display between them.
The same feed.
The same view.
The descending missile heads.
Summer’s eyes widened.
Her voice dropped.
"...what’s going on?"
---
Back in the city—
Chaos didn’t stop.
Sprouts still clashed with superhumans and jets alike, structures breaking under repeated impact—
BOOM—! THOOM—!
People still ran.
Fought.
Stole.
Died.
But above—
The missile heads descended lower.
Close enough now.
Close enough to see.
Some noticed.
The faster ones.
The ones who paid attention.
Superhumans in the air shifted direction immediately, breaking off from the sprouts as they moved to intercept.
"Take those out!"
One surged forward, energy gathering in his hands—
He fired—
A blast slammed into one of the descending heads—
THOOM—!
Another closed the distance directly, flying straight toward one—
Fast.
Too fast.
He reached it—
And then—
It exploded.
Not fire.
Not heat.
Something else.
PFFFOOOM—!
The burst was wet.
Heavy.
Green fluid sprayed outward in every direction, thick strands stretching through the air before breaking apart.
It splattered across everything nearby—
Buildings.
Air.
People.
And within it—
Movement.
Small.
Countless.
Spineworms.
They rained down with the fluid.
Landing across bodies mid-air.
Across faces.
Arms.
Chests.
The reaction was immediate.
"—what the hell—?!"
"Get them off—!"
Disgust.
Fear.
Most knew.
They didn’t hesitate.
Hands moved fast—grabbing, tearing them off—
CRSH—!
Some burned them instantly with bursts of power—
FZZZT—!
Others crushed them against their skin before they could react.
But not everyone was fast enough.
Some hesitated.
Some froze.
And those—
Paid for it.
The worms latched on.
Clinging.
Then—
They burrowed.
Straight into flesh.
"AAH—!"
One clawed at his arm as the thing dug in, tearing at his own skin—
RIP—!
Blood spilled—
The worm dropped—
But not all were that lucky.
Some had skin too dense.
The worms adjusted.
They crawled.
Toward openings.
Mouth.
Nose.
Ears.
And then—
Inside.
The reaction changed.
From fear—
To panic.
"NO—GET IT OUT—!"
One slammed into a nearby building mid-air, smashing his head repeatedly against the surface—
THUD—THUD—THUD—!
Another dragged his nails across his neck, ripping flesh open as he tried to reach it—
Some succeeded.
The worms fell out—
Writhing—
Crushed moments later.
Others—
Didn’t.
Their movements slowed.
Then—
Spiked.
Bodies twitching.
Jerking unnaturally.
Hands froze mid-motion.
Eyes unfocused.
One of the unaffected shouted—
"They’re infected—! We need to kill them!"
Too late.
The twitching stopped.
For a second.
Then—
They turned.
Their expressions—
Empty.
And attacked.
No hesitation.
No warning.
They lunged at the nearest targets—
Former allies.
The sky turned on itself.
More missile heads burst.
More spread.
More worms fell.
And across the city—
The same scenes repeated.
---
Back in the lab—
No one spoke.
Not at the monitors.
Not at the platform.
Not anywhere.
They just watched.
Stunned.
Trying to process—
What they were seeing.
---
At the front—
Don didn’t move.
His gaze stayed locked on the screen.
That feeling—
Now had a shape.
And it was worse than he expected.
