The Price of Redemption

Chapter 1

n the heart of a sprawling metropolis, where the skyscrapers cast long shadows and the night buzzed with activity, an eclectic band of thieves prepared for their most daring heist yet.

Dynamite, the gang's hotheaded leader, paced restlessly, his fists clenched. His piercing gaze scanned the blueprints, and his lips pursed in determination. "Listen up, morons." His voice boomed through the dimly lit hideout. "This is our chance to hit the big leagues. No more petty thefts; we're going for the golden goose."

Charge-Bolt, the gang's resident jester, rolled his eyes. "Let's just hope you can keep your temper in check this time." His sly grin sent a wave of laughter through the group.

Red Riot, the brawny protector, stood tall, his arms crossed. "We've got your back, bro. Just don't get yourself knocked out before we even reach the vault.' His infectious laughter filled the air.

Alien Queen the feisty spitfire, hopped onto the table. "Hey, don't go picking on our fearless leader. He may be a reckless ticking bomb, but he's our reckless ticking bomb." Her sassy grin and a twinkle in her eyes melted the tension.

Cellophane, the charming rogue, leant back in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips. "So, who's the poor sucker that's going to drive us out of this mess?"

"Me, of course," Kaminari declared, with a proud smirk on his face. 'Let's just say I have a knack for escaping the fuzz with my pedal to the metal.'

Earphone Jack, the mysterious robber, stood far, her sharp eyes focused on the plans. "Just be careful not to bring the rest of us down with you." There were more laughs at her sardonic humour.

As the clock ticked down, the gang prepared for the heist. Bakugou barked orders, his voice commanding. Kirishima flexed his muscles, ready to crush any obstacle in their way. Ashido checked her gear, her fists itching for action. Sero polished his lockpicks, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Jirou disappeared into the shadows, her stealth unmatched.

The group gave a final nod, then tiptoed out into the darkness, their hearts thumping with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. With footsteps as quiet as whispers, they made their way through the winding streets. The tall skyscraper that was the target was a representation of excess and greed due to its lavish façade.

Bakugou assumed command inside the vault, shaking as he attempted to disarm the alarm system. He snarled, "Come on, you piece of crap!"

Kaminari, unable to resist a quip, whispered, "Maybe you should try sweet-talking it, Bakugou. I hear that alarms have a soft spot for loudmouths." His remark earned him a glare but also a begrudging chuckle from the others.

Kirishima stood guard, his fists clenched, ready to pounce on any threat. Ashido darted around, collecting jewels with astonishing speed and precision. Sero's lockpicks danced across the safes, unlocking them with effortless grace. Sero's lithe frame and rosy cheeks belied a heart filled with defiance and mischief. His eyes, dancing with a mischievous twinkle, hinted at adventures untold, while his faded garb spoke of a life lived on the road. Sero's spirit had chafed against societal norms from a tender age. Undeterred, Sero employed his thieving skills, stealthily evading the guards and grappling with intricate locks

Jirou scanned the room for any potential threats, moving like a phantom with her senses sharpened. Jirou was a light-built, athletic woman of average height with an unassuming exterior that belied his sharp mind and cunning. Her brilliant amethyst eyes gave off an air of brilliance while also suggesting a bold and analytical mind. Her eyes, framed by a waterfall of short, dark violet hair, gave the impression that she was always observing her surroundings with detached interest. Her easygoing and self-assured manner concealed the fact that she was a thief. Although her past is unknown, there were hints of a desperate search for motivation.

A high-pitched alarm shattered the silence as they prepared to flee. Their cover was blown, as sirens roared and lights flickered.

"Get to the car!" Bakugou roared. Ashy blond hair, spiked and unyielding, framed a face scarred by a jagged scar that traced the contours of his left cheek, a reminder of a previous conflict that had both damaged and tempered him. Bakugou, dressed in a faded black leather jacket and boots, projected a sense of fear and ambiguity. His presence was like a thunderclap, both mesmerising and unsettling. He had dreamed of being a hero, driven by a quest for justice and a desire to protect the innocent. But his hungry ego had ballooned like a venomous serpent, spouting lies that undermined his lofty goals.