The city of Elexers pulsed beneath a twilight sky. Cain walked briskly through its neon-lit arteries, the rain-slicked streets reflecting the artificial lights like liquid fire. His hoodie clung to his frame, soaked from the drizzle. Despite the quiet energy of the city around him, his thoughts were singular.
"I need to get home fast before she gets mad," he muttered to himself, a low, worried hum. He feared she might worry enough, after… everything. She was the only one left. The maid.
Not just a maid, though, is she? She's family.
And he hates worrying family. He always has. Always will.
It's not about him. It's about her. Her peace of mind. Her quiet evenings. That's what matters. That's what he's protecting right now. Not some grand ideal. Just… a warm meal and a sigh of relief on her face.
That's all he needed
He quickened his pace, the familiar hum of the city a comforting lullaby. But then, the world exploded.
BOOOOM.
A roar tore across the skyline like a ripping wound. Glass shattered, raining down like glittering shards of a broken promise. Buildings trembled, groaning under an unseen force. A shockwave punched the atmosphere, rattling the very bones of the city.
*WHOOSH!*
The wind howled, carrying the stench of ozone and pulverized concrete.
Sirens wailed, a rising chorus of despair.
"EMERGENCY ALERT. LEVEL FOUR AWAKENING DETECTED. ZONE 17-A."
Smoke curled into the sky—thick, black, and climbing, a malevolent finger pointing towards the heavens. Cain's head snapped toward the direction. Zone 17-A. That was where Leo had gone. A cold dread, sharper than any blade, pierced him.
Leo.
Cain froze for just a moment, a single beat of absolute terror. But instinct, honed by years of silent training, took over. He ran. His feet pounded the slick pavement, a furious rhythm against the city's dying pulse. Every muscle screamed, but he ignored it. He had to get there. Now.
At the center of the city, destruction bloomed like fire. Zone 17-A was a twisted monument to raw power. The air vibrated with a sickening hum, a distortion that made the world shimmer around its edges. The villain's green aura pulsed, distorting gravity itself. Cars, once grounded, now hovered erratically, then were flung like toys. Pavement shattered, ripping from the ground with a sound like tearing fabric. Debris spun like planets around a malevolent sun, a lethal ballet of concrete and twisted metal.
Leo was flung into a broken scaffold, a tangled mess of steel rods. The impact *CRUNCHED*. He heard a sickening *CRACK* as his bones screamed in protest. A hot, metallic taste flooded his mouth. Blood.
He coughed, a ragged, wet sound, and tasted iron.
His vision swam, a kaleidoscope of pain and green light.
But still—he stood. He swayed, a broken marionette, but his feet remained rooted to the ground. His hands, still sparking with the nascent whispers of flame, clenched into fists.
"So this is… a villain," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper against the roaring destruction. "He's strong… stronger than anything I've ever imagined. This… this is real. This isn't a game. This isn't a training simulation. This is… terrifying."
He had never faced this kind of fear before. A primal, gut-wrenching dread that threatened to paralyze him. Every fiber of his being screamed to run, to hide, to cower. But fear didn't stop him. It sharpened him. It became a cold, hard knot in his stomach, a reminder of the stakes. He had to stand. Someone had to.
Cain reached him seconds later, a blur of motion against the backdrop of destruction. He skidded to a halt, his eyes scanning Leo's battered form.
"Leo!?" His voice was a guttural question, laced with a raw concern he rarely showed.
Leo blinked, his eyes unfocused, then slowly cleared. Through blinding rain, through the swirling smoke and debris, Cain appeared like a specter. Grounded. Calm. Fierce. Unwavering. He was a pillar in the storm.
"Cain… how come you're here?"
Leo coughed, a fresh trickle of blood escaping his lips. His voice was hoarse, brittle.
Cain dropped to one knee beside him, steadying Leo with one hand.
"Don't strain yourself," he said quietly. "You don't have to talk right now."
But Leo's gaze held him. There was something fragile there—uncertainty wrapped in pain.
His voice trembled.
"Cain… do you think I can really be a hero? I mean… look at me."
He gestured weakly to his battered body.
"I'm shaking. I'm bleeding. I'm scared. Really scared. Is that… is that allowed?"
Cain didn't answer immediately. He looked to the sky, to the relentless rain that washed over the destruction, turning the rubble into slick, dark mounds. He looked at the shattered buildings, the distant, wailing sirens, the green aura of the villain. Then, his gaze softened, resting on Leo's bruised, defiant face.
"My mom used to say…" Cain's voice was low, a rumble against the storm. "Heroes aren't the ones who shine the brightest. They're not the ones who never fall. They're the ones who carry the light—even when it burns them. Even when that light feels like a scorching brand against their soul. Real heroes cry. They break. They scream into the void when no one's listening. They doubt themselves. They feel the weight of every single life they couldn't save. But they still stand—because someone has to. Because the alternative is to let the darkness win. And that's not an option."
He paused, his eyes holding Leo's. "My dad told me… don't protect the world because it's kind. Don't protect it because it's fair, or just, or even because it deserves it. Protect it because you can. Because you choose to. Because there's a flicker of hope, a single life, a single smile, that makes all the pain worth it. That's the choice. The impossible, agonizing choice that defines us. You're bleeding. You're shaking. Every fiber of your being is probably screaming in protest right now. But you're still standing. You're still looking at me, asking if you can be a hero, instead of running. That's what makes a hero, Leo. That's the core of it."
Leo stared at him, eyes wide, the rain washing over his face, mixing with the blood and tears. A strange, quiet strength seemed to settle over him, displacing the fear, if only for a moment. He swallowed hard.
"…Thanks, Cain. Really. I… I needed to hear that. Next time… I'll become the strongest hero this world's ever seen. I promise.I'll be the one standing, even when it burns. Just you watch."
Cain cracked a rare smile, a faint, almost imperceptible upturn of his lips that reached his eyes. It was a silent affirmation, a promise echoed in the shared understanding between them.
"Get patched up first," he said, his voice laced with a gruff affection.
"Don't try to fight a villain with a collapsed lung. It's bad for your hero image. And the villain probably won't appreciate you bleeding on his shoes."
Then he turned—and walked into the heart of the chaos, leaving Leo behind, a silent guardian against the encroaching destruction.
His gaze was fixed on the green-tinged maelstrom, his expression grim.
Cain approached the villain, his steps steady, unwavering.
The ground beneath him groaned, the air thick with distorted energy. A surge of blue light pulsed from within him—his aura awakened. It wasn't a gentle glow, but a raw, untamed force, crackling like lightning. It wrapped around him in waves, a living shield of pure power.
It coursed through his veins, a hum beneath his skin. It granted him strength, a raw, primal force that settled into his muscles. Speed, a blinding velocity that made the world slow around him. His senses sharpened, the roar of the storm becoming a symphony of individual sounds, the swirling debris a mosaic of trajectories.
"Ever since the event 50 years ago… the world changed. People started awakening powers. Some became protectors. Others… became monsters. They think they're gods now. That they're untouchable. They parade their power, their supposed invincibility, crushing everything in their path. They believe they are above consequence, above morality, above us. They laugh at the suffering they cause, revel in the fear they inspire. They truly believe they are the new arbiters of this broken world.But they're wrong. So profoundly, tragically wrong. No matter the lifetime, no matter how strong evil becomes—heroes will always exist. They are not born of privilege or power, but forged in the crucible of necessity. They are the quiet defiance in the face of overwhelming darkness. And they will always rise to bring those monsters down.
This isn't just a battle for a city block. This is a battle for a principle. For the very idea that humanity is worth fighting for, even when it's at its worst.This is my first real battle. And I'll win. I have to. For them. For everyone who can't."
The villain, a hulking figure wreathed in emerald light, saw him. A snarl twisted his lips. He raised a hand, and the very air seemed to compress. With a guttural roar, he sent a barrage of debris at Cain—a broken hover-car, chunks of concrete, twisted rebar, all hurtling with impossible speed, infused with the villain's gravity.
Cain moved. He dodged every projectile, a blue blur against the grey rain and green aura. He flipped, a graceful arc over a spinning car chassis. He slid, a low crouch under a whistling rebar. He weaved, a dizzying dance between the rubble with precision that bordered on supernatural. Each movement was fluid, efficient, born of instinct and amplified power.
Then Cain began super-jumping across walls, using building sides to gain height and speed. He launched himself, a blue streak, *THWANG!* off a skyscraper, leaving a crater in its side. He ricocheted, *CRACK!* off a collapsing bridge, gaining momentum.
"If I can't reach you—then I'll force myself to you!" he roared, his voice amplified by his aura, a challenge thrown into the heart of the storm.
He closed the gap in an instant, a human missile aimed at the villain's heart. The villain's eyes widened, surprised by Cain's relentless speed. With a desperate grunt, he formed a powerful gravity barrier around himself, a shimmering green dome that pulsed with immense energy.
Cain didn't hesitate. He slammed his fist into it—charged with the full, unbridled power of his aura. The blue light flared, met the green with a deafening shriek.
BOOM.
The sound was thunderous, a concussive blast that ripped through the air. The gravity barrier shattered, exploding outwards in a shower of emerald sparks and distorted light. The villain was thrown back, a limp ragdoll, crashing into concrete and steel with a sickening *CRUMP!* He left a deep, jagged crater in the ground, a testament to the force of Cain's blow.
Cain landed hard, his boots sinking slightly into the mangled pavement. His breath heaved, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The blue aura flickered, momentarily dimming, but it remained. He stood. Still glowing. Still ready.
He approached the fallen villain, his steps slow and deliberate, the blue light casting long, dancing shadows in the rain. The villain lay motionless in the crater, the green aura around him fading, his body twisted at an unnatural angle.
"It's over," Cain said, his voice rough, but firm. "You should just surrender. It's done."
But then he saw it.
Tears
Streaming down the villain's face, mixing with the rain and the grime. Not tears of rage. Not tears of madness. Not even tears of defeat. Just pure, unadulterated pain. A deep, agonizing sorrow that seemed to emanate from his very core. A quiet, broken moan escaped his lips, barely audible over the distant sirens.
Cain froze. The sight cut deeper than any punch, any blow he had delivered. It was an unexpected, visceral shock. His aura flickered, the blue light wavering. He had expected anger, defiance, a final, desperate attack. Not this. Not… this humanity.
He whispered, the words barely escaping his lips, lost in the wind and the rain.
"…I don't understand this world. A bit. I thought… I thought it was simple. Good and evil. Heroes and monsters. But… this?"
The fight was over.
END OF CHAPTER.