Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 521: Show Of Force (Part 3)

The rumbling didn’t fade as the group began to move.

It rolled through the tunnels and expanse in uneven surges, not a single shock but a continuing grind that crept through the soles of their boots and into bone.

Dust sifted from the ceiling in thin curtains, tapping against attire and shoulders. Somewhere deeper, stone cracked under pressure—dull, stressed sounds that never finished breaking.

Starboy slowed first.

He hovered a fraction off the ground without realizing it, eyes glowing faintly as his head turned from wall to wall. "Is something else coming?" he asked, voice raised just enough to carry over the noise.

Don didn’t answer.

He was already moving, stepping around a collapsed rib of stone, one hand brushing the tunnel wall as if feeling for a pulse. His eyes tracked the curve ahead where the passage widened again, gaze locked there like he expected it something to pop out.

Pyro dragged a hand down his face and let out a long breath. "If it is," he said, voice worn thin, "I’m not gonna be able to fight and protect them too." 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

He leaned against the wall for half a second, forearm pressed to slick stone, then pushed off again once he felt it. His fire stayed low, barely more than a glow in his hair.

Frostbite walked a few steps behind, boots steady despite the uneven ground. She didn’t speak, but her brow pulled tight at Pyro’s words, jaw setting as another tremor passed underfoot.

Charles followed Don, slower than usual now, one hand braced against the wall for support as the tunnel shuddered again. He exhaled through his nose. "If it comes down to it," he said, tired but calm, "you guys should leave. No heroics."

That finally pulled Don’s attention away from the tunnel ahead.

He stopped.

The group nearly piled into him before adjusting, boots scraping as they came to a halt. Dust drifted around them, settling on shoulders and heads.

"We’re all getting out of here," Don said. His voice was level, but final. "We can’t afford to lose more numbers."

He lifted his head and looked straight at Starboy. "Nothing’s coming."

Starboy blinked. "You sure?"

Don paused. His shoulders dropped just slightly as he exhaled. "But something is moving," he added. "Something big."

Relief flickered across a few faces—and died just as fast.

Pyro turned his head toward Don. "Where is it moving to?" he asked. "Deeper underground? Or away from us, at least?"

Don shook his head once. "No." He looked past them, through layers of stone only he could read. "If I’m not mistaken... whatever’s moving—or being moved—is heading for the surface."

The words landed hard.

Even Charles stiffened, fingers tightening on the wall. Frostbite’s expression closed off entirely, eyes narrowing.

Pyro let out a short, humorless breath. "Shit, man," he muttered. "Then what do we do now?"

Don turned and pointed down the tunnel, "Now we get out."

Another tremor hit, stronger than the last—and that was all the argument they needed.

They moved.

———

Above ground, the camps were already breaking.

The tremors had grown too frequent, too violent to ignore. The ground rolled in uneven waves, knocking people off balance and rattling teeth.

Trees along the perimeter leaned at bad angles, roots tearing free with long, wet sounds—before crashing down and flattening equipment beneath them.

At the outer camps, people shouted over one another. Some tore down stations in frantic bursts, shoving equipment into cases with no regard for order.

Others hauled heavier gear out into open ground, hoping distance might save it. Radios just made noise with half-formed reports before cutting to static. A few vehicles peeled away entirely, tires throwing dirt as they fled the shaking ground.

At the main camp, it was worse.

Dr. Gadget stood just outside a command container, one hand braced against the metal door as the earth bucked again beneath his feet.

Inside, unsecured monitors slid from tables and shattered, screens popping as they hit the floor. Technicians scrambled, some trying to right equipment, others abandoning it altogether.

A man near the central station—early forties, dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, sleeves rolled up past shaking forearms—had stood up from his console and was staring at a seismic display in disbelief.

"Dr. Gadget!" he shouted. "You need to see this—now!"

Gadget turned at once and crossed the short distance, steady despite the rolling ground. "Have you received communication from the rescue teams?" he asked.

The man shook his head, breath coming fast. "No, sir. It’s the seismic activity. We need to leave now. If these charts are accurate, we—"

The ground dropped.

Not a tremor—an outright lurch.

The camp pitched sideways as if the earth itself had been kicked loose. People went down hard, some throwing their arms over their heads as crates toppled and equipment slammed into the dirt.

The container rocked violently, metal shrieking as its supports bent.

The ground split.

Cracks tore outward in jagged lines, widening fast enough to see into them as soil collapsed inward.

Trees snapped at the trunk or tipped completely, roots dragging free as the land became a mess. Rocks the size of vehicles were thrown clear of the earth, tumbling end over end before crashing down again.

Then something erupted.

A massive vine burst from the ground in a violent horizontal surge—longer and thicker than any tree, its surface ridged and wet. It didn’t rise upward; it tore sideways through the camp, plowing through earth, shredding tents, launching vehicles and debris into the air as if they weighed nothing.

The container Gadget had just left was caught by the shockwave and flipped onto its side, slamming into the dirt with a deafening crash.

Inside, everything went weightless.

Gadget hit the wall hard, stars bursting across his vision as his head struck metal. Something warm ran down his forehead. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to move as the container settled at an angle.

"Out—now," he said, voice tight.

A woman in a torn lab coat crawled toward the broken doorway, dragging a younger technician by the arm. Another man followed, limping badly, one hand pressed to his ribs.

They spilled out into daylight just as the ground shuddered again.

One of them caught Gadget under the arm and hauled him upright. Gadget’s glasses were gone, blood streaking down from his hairline, but his eyes stayed fixed on the devastation tearing through the camp.

The vine dragged itself forward, earth folding and collapsing in its wake.

"This," Gadget murmured hoarsely, "is no longer a containment failure."

Dr. Gadget adjusted his glasses with a shaking hand as the vine finished tearing its way free of the earth.

It rose only long enough to clear itself—then drove its forward end down with a crushing slam—planting itself into the ground like a living anchor. The opposite end remained buried, the soil around it heaving as if something vast still strained below.

For half a second, no one moved.

Then someone screamed, "We’re under attack!"

An alarm wailed to life—loud even through the chaos as gunfire erupted. Specialized rifles sounded off in staggered bursts, recoil jerking shoulders back as superhuman rounds tore into the vine’s surface.

Impacts punched shallow craters into its exterior, chunks of fibrous matter spraying outward—only for the wounds to close moments later.

Superhumans joined in.

One charged straight in, slamming both hands against the vine’s midsection and bracing his legs as he tried to lift it. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he heaved upward, veins standing out along his neck. For a second, it rose—

Then the vine came down.

It crushed him into the dirt with a single downward slam—KRRSHH~—the shockwave rippling outward as his body disappeared beneath it.

Another took to the air, eyes burning bright as beams tore from them and carved a smoking line across the vine’s surface. The burn barely made it through the outer layer before the vine snapped sideways.

It struck him mid-flight.

The impact folded him around it and sent him flying end over end into a ruined tree. He hit hard—and slid down what remained of the trunk before a broken branch punched clean through the side of his head.

Dr. Gadget stared, breath caught somewhere between his ribs.

A man near him—helmet cracked, one arm useless—grabbed his sleeve. "Sir, we need to leave!"

They turned toward the sound of rotors as a chopper dipped low, trying to pull out survivors.

The vine lashed its tail once.

The air split—and the chopper spun out of control, blades clipping earth before the craft slammed into the ground and burst apart in flame.

Dr. Gadget felt cold.

"We need to warn HQ at once," he said.

Another technician beside him—tall, shaved head, face streaked with grime—shouted over the noise, "Multiple alerts have already been sent, sir! Ever since all underground teams stopped responding. We got replies—every participating agency says help is on the way, but—"

He got cut off as an Escalade lifted off the ground.

It flipped end over end through the air and smashed down less than ten meters away—BOOM~—forcing them all back as dirt and debris rained down.

Dr. Gadget steadied himself against the shaking ground. "But what?"

The man swallowed. "It’s been over thirty minutes, sir. No backup. It shouldn’t take more than half that time."

Dr. Gadget grimaced. "You’re right," he said quietly. "Something is very wrong."

He shoved his sleeve back, revealing the metallic watch strapped to his wrist. Its surface was dark until he tapped it once.

A holographic display sprang to life—projecting a rotating digital globe. Their location burned red. Above it, a satellite icon blinked: RECEIVING.

A prompt hovered in stark lettering:

Confirm sending Class A danger alert across nationwide agencies?

His finger hovered—

Static crackled from the overturned container nearby.

"—anyone copy?" a distorted voice called. "Static—does anyone read? This is Team Three and One from DHQ—nearly out of the tunnels—multiple casualties—"

Another report came in, clearer this time.

"Hello—does anyone read?" Pyro’s voice, strained and breathless. "This is Team One and Two from SHQ. We’ve got two injured and multiple casualties. We’re moving out fast. Static—please copy—something big is down here and we believe it’s trying to come up. Shit... we’re going to need back—"

The message cut off as the ground ruptured again.

A second vine exploded from the earth—BOOOOM~—launching the container skyward like scrap metal. People were thrown in every direction, bodies tumbling as the shockwave flattened what little remained standing.

Dr. Gadget was hurled off his feet.

He rolled across mud and torn grass, vision spinning, until his back slammed into the side of an overturned Escalade. Pain flared white-hot through his ribs as he groaned and sucked in air thick with smoke and dirt.

Blood ran into his eyes.

He wiped it away and raised his watch with a shaking hand.

Confirm.

The display flashed once—ACKNOWLEDGED.

He swiped to the next screen.

Summon Detron-F67?

"Yes," he said, tapping it hard.

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

A woman—field medic, late thirties, face cut and filthy—hauled him upright. "Sir, we need to get out of here now!"

The ground shook once more.

They all turned as the first massive vine reared back, shadow swallowing them whole as it swung downward.

Dr. Gadget’s eyes widened.

The vine filled his vision as it came crashing toward them.