((lemme hit you with that heavy political shit haha-))

In a world oblivious to the terrors of the government, only a small group has rose up. Each time they tried to make a move, or try to bring light to any problem, they were shut down in a mass slaughter. However, they always seemed to crawl out of the ashes, time after time. They had no name, only being referred to as defectors from outside organizations and individuals. And so, the unofficial name they had been given was in fact: "The Defectors". The group had been around for a long time, years now. Still, the higher powers still managed to suppress the desperate cries. 

Katsuki Bakugou lived in a thriving central city, beaming with life and what were called Helpers. Helpers were a government run line of AI who ran the citizens lives. They were white cylindrical things with little wheels on the bottom. They only stood at about four feet tall and they had arms and gadgets folded away, only to be used if necessary. The Helpers controlled everything; the food the people ate, when they slept and woke up, where they were permitted to go, they could even turn off and on a person's quirk. These had always bothered Katsuki, so he would slap dumb looking stickers on the two they had at home. His parents kept getting in trouble by the government for this action, for the defacing of any government AI was illegal.

Katsuki felt his bed rock, and he cracked an eye open, sleepily looking over at the upstairs Helper shaking his bed. "Time is 0700 hours." It said, it's voice having a slight electronic pinge to it. "Katsuki Bakugou, number 7-18-15-21-14-4-0 registered as awake." It went on. Katsuki groaned, smacking it out of the way as he trudged to the bathroom. "Alert! Physical harm registered!" it squeaked, to which Katsuki promptly flipped the robot off. "Shut it, scrapmetal." he huffed, pouring water on his toothbrush. He slicked some toothpaste on the bristles, shoving it in his mouth and violently brushing. 

He finished up his daily routine, dressed in dark clothing as he headed down the stairs. Suddenly, the entire house suddenly began to shake. Violently, and suddenly. He gripped onto the handrails tightly, stopping himself from falling down the flight of stairs. The lights in the house turned red, an alarm blaring. The shaking stopped for a moment, then coming back in a hard crashing wave. "Katsuki!" A female voice yelled from upstairs. "Mom, what the hell is going on?!" He called back, still trapped on the stairs. "It's them!" She said. Katsuki's heart stopped. He knew exactly what this meant. He fled as fast as he could, past the clattering objects and right up to the front door. He pulled open the curtain in the living room. To his horror, a large group of people were gathered on the square. That wasn't the horrifying part, however. 

The true terror that struck that day was what the Helpers were doing. A part of them he had never seen before were exposed. Raw violence. They had guns drawn, shooting anything that moved. This included the registered civilians. It was a complete bloodbath, and something Katsuki would never forget. He saw one person escape, pushing past a barricade of these AI bots. He had no idea how they managed to do it, but he was struck with a sense of pride. He felt a strong pair of arms around his waist, pulling him away from the window. "Katsuki-!" his mother barked, ripping him away from the sight. "You know you aren't permitted to look!" she said, her tone firm. He whipped around, smacking her arms away. He didn't have anything to say, not yet at least. 

Up to this point, Katsuki had only ever heard of this organization. He had no doubt that these were The Defectors. The same group that had slaughtered his father. Or so he had heard. As his mother led him down to the basement for the night, he was silent. She tried multiple times to get him to talk, or at least eat something, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. He just sat on the couch, his knees drawn up to his chest as he stared down. Never before had he seen real death, but now that he had his life was changed. Helpers weren't supposed to hurt people. They were supposed to be able to identify the innocent civilians and be forbid to harm them in any way. 

As his head was flooded with these thoughts, he felt something bump his foot. He looked down to see one of them. That damn Helper. He couldn't help but wonder if the two they had were also loaded with a deadly arsenal. He scooted away from it, scowling at it with a raging fury. He couldn't get a good enough look at who had died, so for all he knew it could be someone he knew. And it was all due to these bots. The lights finally returned to their normal color, and the Helpers chirped out the all clear call. 

Katsuki stood up hastily, storming up the basement stairs and back to his room. His mom did the same, but instead of huffing away, she went upstairs to sleep. "Goodnight, Katsuki." she said, cracking a soft half-smile at him. He stood in the kitchen, saying nothing. He gazed out the window, into the hazy world outside. It was dark, but there was still light from the dim street lights. The night felt still, there was no movement anywhere outside. It was solemn, and he felt highly uneasy. Especially with the presence of Helpers buzzing around his house. At least there was a patrol every night, but tonight was different. There was nothing. And then there was something. Right at his backdoor. He ducked over to the kitchen, grabbing a butcher's knife. The doorknob slowly turned and twisted. As this happened, Katsuki's breath caught in his throat, the knife shaking in his grip. His palms were sweaty, and his heart was racing. Tumbling in came a figure, grabbing onto the doorway to stop from collapsing.

He kept the knife at the ready, gazing up and down with heavy scrutiny to this form. The civilians weren't permitted to wander around after dark, and besides he didn't recognize this person. It hit him then, knowing exactly who this was. Or at least where they came from. "You're one of those Defector bastards, aren't you?" He growled, his voice hushed but violent. 

((Reply as any character,  OCs are actually allowed for this one. Other than that, the only rules are 5-7 sentence minimum, literate, blah blah you know all that good stuff. (I hope.) ))