Nova sprinted toward Enigma with all the speed and fury she could muster, determined to end the battle before her strength waned or her stamina gave out. Her heart pounded in her chest as she closed the distance, her voice ringing out in a defiant cry. "This will be your end!" she screamed, throwing her fist with everything she had, aiming for a quick and decisive strike.
She felt the satisfying impact as her fist connected with Enigma's body, the force of the blow reverberating through her arm. For a brief moment, she believed she had done it, that her attack had landed true, just as it had before.
But as her gaze lifted, her heart sank. The sight before her was worse than anything she could have imagined. Enigma stood unmoved, his expression calm beneath the mask, his hand effortlessly gripping her fist. He had caught her strike, the same attack that had sent him flying earlier was now held at bay with nothing more than a single hand.
Enigma began to laugh, a menacing sound that echoed through the air as she struggled to free her arm from his grasp. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break free. "If that's your strongest attack," he sneered, tightening his grip, "you're going to need far more power just to leave a scratch on me." With a swift motion, he yanked her closer and delivered a brutal uppercut to her jaw, sending her body hurtling into the sky.
"All this time," Enigma continued, his voice dark with triumph, "I've been holding back my true strength, so I could end this with a single blow." He leapt into the air, his speed blurring as he closed the distance between them. In one fluid motion, he grabbed her by the shirt, keeping her from plummeting back to the ground.
"Tell me," he hissed, his eyes gleaming with malice, "do you know what the Hero Association did to me when I was young?" He searched her face, but saw only confusion in her wide-eyed stare.
"I'll take that as a no," Enigma said, his voice dropping as a shadow of old memories clouded his thoughts. He paused, the rage within him simmering just beneath the surface. "Do you really not remember me?" he demanded, his fury rising again.
Nova blinked, her mind racing, still unsure what he was talking about. She had never seen him before—she was certain of it. She was always good at remembering faces. Just as she was about to speak, Enigma cut her off.
"Maybe," he growled, his voice thick with anger, "if I take off this mask, you'll remember who I am." His hands moved slowly to his mask, the weight of his fury palpable in the air. The crowd below watched in stunned silence as, for the first time in the tournament, Enigma revealed his face.
Scars crisscrossed his features, each one a painful reminder of the past.
The crowd fell into a stunned silence at the sight of his face, many unable to believe what they were seeing. Gasps rippled through the stands as they took in the scars etched across his skin, marks of battles long fought and survived. Even the judges, seasoned and stoic, were rendered speechless, as were the other fighters, who watched in wide-eyed disbelief.
Nova stared, unblinking, her mind racing to place the man before her. There was something familiar in his gaze, something that tugged at the edges of her memory, yet nothing surfaced. She searched frantically, hoping for a flicker of recognition, a forgotten name or face, but her thoughts offered nothing. And then, like a bolt of lightning, it struck her. The realization hit, and everything fell into place.
A memory resurfaced from her childhood, vivid and unsettling. There had been a boy, one with a strange and rare ability, he could heal from any injury, but the process was agonizing. If he broke a finger, the ability would forcefully reset the bone, snapping it back into place. Every time he was hurt, it wasn't the wound that caused him to scream, but the excruciating pain of being mended. His cries echoed not from the injury itself, but from the torment of healing. Worse still, the ability wasn't perfect. Sometimes, it would fail to fully repair him, leaving behind jagged scars as reminders of his suffering.
Nova remembered how that boy had been relentlessly bullied for his unusual ability, enduring cruelty in its most brutal forms. The memory stirred a pang of guilt in her, but despite feeling sorry for him, she hadn't stepped in to help. She had been too afraid, afraid that if she stood by his side, the same torment would be turned against her. So, she had stayed silent, watching from the shadows, her fear outweighing her compassion.
She remembers the horror of it all how they used to bury him alive, testing his will to survive. After a week, they would dig him up, only to find him still clinging to life, breathing against the earth that had sought to suffocate him. His little brother, though, had not been so fortunate. They buried him, too. For a month, the boy's parents searched in desperation, hoping to find their son. When they finally unearthed him, it was too late his small body had long since decayed, a tragic end to a cruel game.
Another month passed, and in the dead of night, his parents vanished without a trace. The boy knew who was responsible, even if he couldn't admit it to himself. He waited, lying to himself with desperate hope. He told himself his parents were fine, that they would return to him, arms open, everything as it once was.
But they never did. Ten months passed in agonizing denial until one day, he found them far from the city, hanging from a tree in a barren land. The truth he had been avoiding crushed him, the weight of his lies too much to bear.
Their bodies no longer resembled anything human, twisted and broken beyond recognition. The child had spent an entire week in grief, his tears endless as he mourned the loss of his parents. When he finally returned to the city, every eye was on him. They all knew what had been done to him, the cruelty he had endured. Yet no one offered a hand, no one stepped forward to help. There was no hero to save him. He was alone, left to fend for himself in a world that had abandoned him.
As the years passed, his torment only worsened. They grew more inventive, devising new and horrific ways to make him suffer. They burned him alive, tossed him from towering heights, drowned him, severed his limbs, and even hurled him into an active volcano. Yet, no matter the cruelty, no matter the pain, the end was always the same, he would return. Over and over, as if cursed with immortality, his body would recover, hardened and resistant to every new horror they devised.
Each time he came back, a little less human, and a little more invincible. One day, the boy slipped away from the city, vanishing into the unknown in search of strength. His heart burned with a single purpose, to make those who had caused him pain suffer in return. No one knew where he had gone, and for many, it was as if he had simply disappeared, lost to the world. As time passed, his name faded from memory, and people assumed he had perished, forgotten by all.
The longer Nova stared at Enigma's face, the more the pieces fell into place. His features, once masked in shadow, began to align with a distant memory, one she thought long buried. That face… it was him. Her eyes widened as realization struck, and Enigma, seeing the truth dawn in her gaze, pulled her closer with a fierce grip. His eyes blazed with an anger that had festered for years, a thirst for vengeance burning bright.
"Figured it out, have you, Nova?" he growled, his voice dripping with bitter hatred. His grip tightened as he drew her even nearer, the weight of his wrath hanging heavy in the air. His rage wasn't just for her, it was for all those who had wronged him, all those years ago.
Nova's lips trembled as she finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "C-Cain…" The name escaped her lips, laden with disbelief and sorrow. Her heart raced as memories of the boy who had disappeared flooded her mind. "I... I thought you were dead," she stammered, her eyes wide with fear. Everyone had thought so. He had vanished without a trace, presumed lost to the cruel hands of fate.
But Cain no, Enigma, seethed with rage, his fury now palpable to everyone watching. His voice, once cold and measured, erupted with the full force of his bitterness. "Dead?" he spat, his voice a venomous snarl. "How could I die when I'm cursed to live forever? The deathless curse, Nova! They left me with this fate, and I've lived every day since in agony!"
Nova stood frozen, unsure of what to say or perhaps terrified to say anything at all. She could feel his rage simmering just beneath the surface, ready to consume her should she utter the wrong words.
"Tell me, why didn't you stop those kids from doing all those things to me?" Cain's voice was calm, but his gaze was locked on Nova, his eyes searching for something.
Nova hesitated, her voice trembling as she replied, "B-because… I thought if I tried to stop them, they'd treat me the same way they treat you."
Cain nodded slowly, a warm smile spreading across his face, the cold hatred that once burned in his eyes seeming to fade away. "Oh, then it's not your fault, is it?" His tone was almost soothing.
Nova's fear began to ebb, her body relaxing as she believed she had escaped his wrath. With a nervous smile, she asked, "Are we all good, then?"
"Of course, we are," Cain replied, his voice gentle as he patted her shoulder reassuringly.
But then, without warning, Cain's grip tightened, and in a swift, brutal motion, he hurled her down into the arena below. The ground shattered beneath her impact, the arena floor cracking and splintering like fragile glass. The sheer force of the blow left the audience in stunned silence. No one had seen it coming, not even Nova, who now lay at the center of the destruction, completely blindsided by Cain's betrayal.
The throw came too fast, too sudden for her to react. Nova crashed hard onto the shattered ground of the arena, her body teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Pain clouded her senses, but with a sharp breath, she snapped back into awareness. Through blurred vision, she saw Cain no, Enigma, slowly advancing toward her, each step heavy with purpose. She tried to rise, to summon the strength to face him once more, but her limbs betrayed her. She had nothing left.
In the blink of an eye, he was standing over her, his towering form casting a shadow that swallowed her whole. She weakly lifted her head, and her heart sank, he had put his mask back on. That meant only one thing, there was no mercy to be found behind it.
With brutal precision, Enigma seized her by the hair, yanking her to her feet as though she weighed nothing. Nova struggled, her hands weakly clawing at his grip, but he remained unfazed. His eyes, cold and unfeeling, were fixed solely on his goal, her end.
"Please... you don't have to do this," Nova pleaded, desperation breaking her voice. But her words fell on deaf ears. Enigma did not care. He had no compassion, no hesitation. His sole focus was the final strike.
With lethal intent, Enigma raised his fist, ready to deliver the killing blow.
Far beyond the reaches of Earth, and even farther beyond the solar system that cradled it, approximately two light years away, a grand voyage was underway. A mission sent from Earth, tasked with trading precious resources and forging alliances with a neighboring solar system. It was a delicate mission, one of diplomacy and trust, meant to open the gates of cooperation between distant stars.
The responsibility of protecting this monumental voyage rested on the shoulders of Earth's greatest champion, the number one hero. He stood tall atop the ship, a silent sentinel amidst the infinite void. His hair, spiked and wild, seemed to defy gravity itself, fluttering in the cosmic winds. Draped over his shoulders was a flowing cape, billowing against the blackness of space, marking him as the protector of this voyage. Clad in classic superhero attire, his presence alone was a beacon of hope and power, a reminder that even in the vast unknown, Earth had sent its very best.
He sensed it, an impending death, the number two hero was about to fall. And he couldn't let that happen. Without a second thought, he abandoned the duties assigned to him, launching himself through the void of space at speeds far beyond the comprehension of light itself. The sheer force of his flight was catastrophic. Entire planets trembled in his wake, some knocked off their axes, others shattered into fragments, unable to withstand the energy that tore through the cosmos.
As he streaked across the universe, a planet loomed in his path. There was no time to change course. He crashed through it, his body piercing one side and bursting through the other like a comet. In the moments after, the planet trembled and then erupted into a massive explosion, left in ruins as he continued his unstoppable trajectory.
In mere seconds, he reached Earth. The atmosphere hardly slowed him as he pierced through the barrier and descended toward the tournament grounds. His landing was gentle, a stark contrast to the cosmic destruction he had left behind. He touched down just as Enigma's fist hovered above Nova, mere moments from delivering a fatal blow, but not yet striking.
Time, it seemed, had waited for him. He looked at enigma.