Fires raged in the distance, casting an eerie glow over the destruction.
The scent of burnt flesh and metal filled the air, mixing with the static hum of residual energy from previous clashes.
Yet, amidst the chaos, four figures remained standing.
Takeru and Tyuji on one side. Seiji and Isugami on the other.
Neither side spoke. No words were needed. The weight of their power rippled through the air like an unspoken declaration of war.
Every muscle in Takeru's body was wound tight, his mind racing to assess the situation, calculating every possible move before the battle even began.
Tyuji cracked his knuckles beside him, ice already forming at his fingertips, his breath visible in the cold air swirling around his body.
Then, Isugami moved.
A single, slow clap echoed through the ruined battlefield, followed by another. A third. Then a single snap.
Takeru's eyes flickered toward the Bloodhounds.
The monstrous, jet-black beasts, their bodies pulsing with an ominous, crimson glow, jerked violently and broke free from the ice as if reawakening from a forced slumber.
Their glowing eyes locked onto Takeru and Tyuji, muscles coiling like compressed springs ready to explode.
Tyuji's expression hardened as realization struck. "These things… aren't just illusions or mere constructs. They were hunters, created for the sole purpose of eviscerating their prey."
Before a single breath could be drawn, the hounds lunged.
Takeru's instincts screamed at him to move. His body reacted before his mind did, twisting out of the way with barely an inch to spare.
He hit the ground and rolled as one of the creatures landed where he had stood, claws carving deep trenches into the earth.
The other was already coming for him, a blur of red and black.
His heart pounded as he barely managed to sidestep the snapping jaws, feeling the rush of air as the beast missed him by a hair.
Tyuji, however, had no intention of dodging. Instead, he attacked.
With a flick of his wrist, a storm of jagged, spear-like icicles exploded from the air around him.
The frozen projectiles tore through the Bloodhounds' spectral bodies, causing them to snarl in agony as their crimson energy flickered and cracked like shattered glass.
They convulsed once before dissolving into mist, vanishing as if they had never existed.
Tyuji exhaled sharply, a smirk forming on his face, just before Seiji appeared in front of him.
A brutal, spinning kick slammed into his ribs, the impact like a sledgehammer, sending a deep, radiating pain through his torso.
Tyuji staggered, but instead of stumbling back, he grabbed onto Seiji's jacket mid-hit.
The smirk on his lips widened into something far more dangerous as he clenched his fingers tight.
Seiji's eyes flickered with realization. "Shit."
Tyuji laughed, looking up, his breath fogging in the cold air. "Yeah."
A pulse of raw, biting cold surged through his grip. Ice bloomed instantly, spreading over Seiji's torso, right arm, and leg within seconds. Seiji's body locked up, his frozen leg buckling as he crashed onto the ground with a sharp crack.
Tyuji stepped back, rolling his shoulders, staring down at him. "You are in for a world of hurt."
Takeru saw his chance. His fingers twitched.
[REALITY HACK — AIMBOT]
A translucent firearm materialized in his hand, its barrel sleek and deadly.
The Aimbot system locked in, red crosshair's aligning across Seiji's body, calculating precise weak points. He pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The shots ripped through the air, then vanished.
Takeru's breath caught in his throat.
A shadow had stepped between him and Seiji, the bullets simply gone, as if they had never existed.
The figure stood still, expression unreadable. His presence alone made the air feel heavier.
Takeru's grip on his gun tightened.
Kaito Isugami. He had negated the attack without lifting a finger.
Tyuji took an instinctive step back, his jaw tightening. "What the hell?"
Takeru didn't respond. His mind was already racing, analyzing every possible ability this guy could have. Negation. A power that completely erased the effects of his ability. It was unheard of.
Then, Seiji, still half-frozen, chuckled. "You idiots don't get it, do you?"
His voice was laced with amusement, like a teacher scolding foolish children.
Despite being on the ground, he rested a hand on Isugami's shoulder, his expression twisting into something smug. "You remember the Evaluation's, don't you?"
Takeru remained silent, but his mind already pieced the information together.
Seiji raised three fingers. "Phase 3, Kaito Nakamura."
He lowered one. "A C-Rank. High-speed combat. Afterimage techniques."
Another finger dropped. "Phase 2, Kaito Sumeragi."
A slow smirk crept onto his lips. "A B-Rank. Pressure manipulation. The one who nearly crushed your little girlfriend's lungs in the Evaluation's?"
The last finger went down. "And now, Phase 1."
Takeru clenched his teeth.
Seiji's voice lowered, almost a whisper. "Isugami."
He leaned in slightly, despite his frozen body, his eyes gleaming. "A full-fledged A-Rank."
Takeru barely had time to process it before Seiji laughed darkly. "He can negate…"
The air shuddered.
"And create…"
The ground beneath them exploded.
The sheer force of the impact sent both Takeru and Tyuji skidding backward, debris scattering in all directions.
Takeru gritted his teeth, planting his feet to steady himself, but his mind was racing.
Phase 1, Isugami. An A-Rank. A power that negates and creates.
That meant he wasn't just erasing abilities, he was capable of generating his own constructs, shaping reality in ways Takeru couldn't even begin to understand.
Tyuji wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, glaring. "So let me get this straight, you're saying every 'Kaito' that fought before… was just you at a weaker phase?" His voice was laced with disbelief, but deep down, a sickening realization was setting in.
Seiji let out a small chuckle, despite the ice still locking up part of his body. "Bingo."
Smoke curled into the sky, thick and acrid, the charred scent of destruction lingering over the ruined battlefield that was once the proud front courtyard of Hero Academy.
The once-pristine steps were now stained with blood, bodies of fallen security forces and heroes strewn about like discarded puppets.
The flickering embers of a collapsed structure illuminated the devastated landscape, casting grotesque shadows over the remnants of a battle lost before it had even begun.
Commander Ryuji staggered through the wreckage, his breath ragged, suit torn and sullied by soot and blood.
He coughed violently, spitting out a mixture of dust and crimson, his sharp eyes scanning the devastation with a growing sense of fury.
Standing amidst the carnage, like a conqueror surveying his newly claimed kingdom, was Gurakami.
His white hair gleamed under the dying light, his crisp business suit somehow immaculate despite the destruction surrounding him.
Strapped across his massive arms and shoulders were an array of firearms, grenades, and other deadly instruments, a walking arsenal wrapped in an air of absolute authority.
At his side stood his ever-loyal butler, Jale, and another figure, Josh, a tall man with glasses, his hands idly tucked into his coat pockets as if the slaughter before him was nothing more than an amusing spectacle.
Gurakami merely chuckled, exhaling a plume of smoke from his cigar before finally addressing the seething commander before him. "You should really loosen up, Ryuji," he said, his voice smooth, condescending. "Stress isn't good for a man your age."
Ryuji's muscles coiled, his body trembling with restrained fury. "You think this is a game? You slaughtered my men. You attacked my school. Do you have any idea what you've just started?"
Gurakami exhaled another trail of smoke, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh, I know exactly what I've started. And more importantly, I know exactly how it will end."
Ryuji took another step forward, fists clenched at his sides. "You won't leave here alive."
Gurakami smirked. "Oh?" In one fluid motion, he reached for one of the many holsters strapped to his arm, withdrawing a sleek, customized handgun. He leveled it at Ryuji's chest, the barrel gleaming under the dimming sunlight. "That's a bold claim, Commander." His grin widened as he pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The shot rang through the ruined courtyard, the crack of gunfire cutting through the eerie silence.
Ryuji's body jerked violently as the bullet tore through his chest, blood spurting into the air in a grotesque arc.
His vision blurred as he staggered back, gasping, his breath hitching in his throat. The pain was instant, searing, a fiery explosion ripping through his torso as he collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
His fingers twitched, his body convulsing, but he could do nothing.
Gurakami exhaled another lazy puff of smoke, spinning the gun on his finger before slipping it back into its holster. He turned to Jale, his expression unbothered. "Has Emilla set the barrier?"
Jale nodded, adjusting his gloves. "She should be finishing now."
Gurakami glanced toward the sky, and as if on cue, a brilliant emerald glow rippled across the horizon.
High above the academy, a colossal energy barrier materialized, its shimmering green light casting an eerie hue over the ruined battlefield.
It expanded outward, sealing the entire academy within its impenetrable grasp.
Gurakami smirked. "Perfect. Now no one gets in… and no one gets out."
He took another slow drag of his cigar before stepping over Ryuji's twitching body, not even sparing the fallen commander another glance.
With Jale and Josh flanking him, he walked leisurely into the halls of Hero Academy, his boots clicking against the bloodstained floor as if he were merely on a casual evening stroll.
The interior of the academy was eerily silent, the once-bustling halls now abandoned save for the occasional flickering light overhead.
The destruction from the earlier battle had reached inside, the walls bore the scars of explosions, shattered glass and debris littering the floor.
As they walked, Gurakami turned to Jale, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know, it's almost nostalgic." he mused.
Jale adjusted his cuffs, unimpressed. "Nostalgia isn't relevant. Efficiency is."
Josh snickered from the side, shooting a peace sign toward Jale. "Man, you're no fun. Let the boss reminisce a little. He did just put a bullet through the Commander Ryuji, after all."
Jale sighed, but before he could respond, their path was suddenly blocked.
Standing in the middle of the hallway, poised like an immovable force, was a hero clad in blue and white armor.
His uniform was sleek, pristine, the colors almost glowing under the dim lighting. His short, white hair was slightly tousled, but his piercing gaze remained steady as he locked eyes with the intruders.
"You will not take another step," the hero declared, his voice unwavering.
Gurakami barely spared him a glance, stepping past without a care. "Jale, handle it."
Josh gave a lazy salute. "Have fun with that."
Jale exhaled through his nose, stepping forward as Gurakami and Josh disappeared down the hall.
He glanced at the hero with mild disinterest before reaching into his coat and retrieving a small vial filled with an ominous, glowing liquid. "Let's make this quick."
The moment he uncorked the potion, the hero moved. But it was too late. Jale hurled the vial with expert precision, sending it hurtling toward his opponent.
The hero dodged, twisting mid-air, only to realize, too late, that Jale was already upon him.
With a devastating strike, Jale drove his palm into the hero's abdomen, the sheer force launching him backward.
He crashed into a wall, coughing violently as pain wracked his entire body.
Jale approached him, another potion already in hand. "That last hit should've shattered your ribs," he observed. "You must be tougher than you look."
The hero groaned, struggling to push himself up. His pupils began to glow, shifting into an intricate star-like pattern. The air around him crackled with raw energy as he lifted his head.
"I am A-Rank Hero Nata Yoshi," he declared, his voice trembling with righteous fury. "I will kill every single boss. Every last one of you will fall."
Jale's eyes narrowed, sensing something change.
And then, Nata vanished.
A flicker of golden light erupted behind him. Before Jale could react, a fist coated in star-forged energy slammed into his abdomen, embedding a glowing star-shaped imprint into his flesh.
Jale staggered back, wiping the blood from his lips as he studied Nata with renewed interest.
His mind worked rapidly, analyzing the moment of impact, the way the energy condensed around the hero's fist, the exact sensation of his own strike being used against him. "He didn't just copy my attack. He refined it."
Jale's eyes narrowed. "A star-shaped imprint… a shift in movement speed… he replicated my palm strike, but the force behind it increased exponentially. It wasn't simple mimicry, it was optimization."
Jale wiped the blood from his lips, then chuckled darkly. He reached into his coat, retrieving two more vials, their contents pulsing ominously.
"You…." Jale murmured, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Would make a fine new addition to The Serial 6.."