The roar of the crowd shook the dome like a living beast.
Lights streaked overhead in electric arcs, illuminating the arena floor where two figures clashed in a storm of elemental fury—Molten Fist, his body igniting with wildfire heat, and Ice Cliff, his fists forged from ancient frost. Each strike produced a shockwave that made the stadium tremble under its own grandeur.
Kazuma sat in the bleachers with his arms folded, eyes narrow and focused not on the match, but on the rhythm of it. The timing. The precision. The way the two heroes handled power that could level entire mountain ranges if they wanted to.
Aoi sat beside him, cheering and waving a glowing ice-blue pennant with Ice Cliff's emblem. Her voice rose above the others.
"Come on, Ice Cliff! You've got this!"
She laughed, bright and effervescent— a sound that usually warmed something in Kazuma's chest.
Usually.
Today… something inside him recoiled every time she smiled. It wasn't that the smile was wrong. It was that it felt rehearsed. Too light. Too perfect. Too painless.
He knew pain and knew it intimately—lived with it. The fractured existence of two souls inside one body taught him the difference between real pain and the performance of peace.
*She's faking it.*
The voice inside him. The ember-hot consciousness of his Fire Mode, stirred with a low growl.
"Shut up," Kazuma muttered under his breath.
Aoi didn't hear him thankfully; she was too busy squealing as Ice Cliff delivered an avalanche uppercut that sent Molten Fist sliding across half the arena floor.
Kazuma breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the burn in his mind.
Fire Mode rarely woke during peaceful moments. It preferred chaos, conflict, heat. But ever since Aoi greeted him this morning with a cheerful "Good morning!" and a radiant smile—the same smile she had before her entire worldview had been shaken—Fire Mode had been restless.
*Her eyes are empty. You know it. Look again.*
Kazuma's jaw clicked. He didn't want to look, but he did anyway.
Aoi's face shone in the stadium lights, cheeks slightly flushed from excitement, hands balled into tiny fists at her chest. But her eyes... Her eyes didn't shine. Not the way they used to—not the way they did when she was truly happy, bubbling with life, confidence, hope. They glowed only with reflected light and not her own.
Kazuma felt something tighten in his throat.
"…She got over it," he mumbled, trying to convince himself. "She forgave him."
*Liar*
"Shut. Up."
But Fire Mode wasn't wrong. Aoi spoke about Asol with a lighthearted shrug over breakfast—"I'm sure he's fine! He's probably distracted by something cool!"—like her entire reality hadn't cracked days earlier. Like she hadn't cried. Like she hadn't been afraid. Like she hadn't doubted the world she loved. Kazuma didn't doubt that she was trying. Aoi always tried—tried harder than anyone—to be hope. To be light.
But something in her was… wrong.
The tournament announcer's voice boomed through the dome, snapping Kazuma back to the present.
"And the winner—by knockout—ICE CLIFF!"
The Frozen Hero raised a fist to the sky and unleashed a spiraling tower of frost into the dome's air. Snowflakes drifted gently from the ceiling's artificial climate controls, covering the stage in white shimmer.
Aoi jumped to her feet, waving her arms.
"YES! That was amazing!"
Kazuma watched her, quiet.
He could feel Fire Mode smiling inside his mind—sharp, cynical.
*She's broken. And she doesn't even know it.*
"Shut up."
*If you won't say it out loud, then at least say it to me.*
Kazuma clenched his fists.
"…Just let me enjoy this moment."
There was a brief pause.
Then Fire Mode murmured-
*You can enjoy it. But don't lie to yourself.*
Kazuma had no answer for that.
---
|Later outside the Dome|
The streets outside the Dome radiated life. Vendors waved banners and roasted food on portable grills. Children posed beside lesser-known heroes who performed mini-spectacles—flame juggling, telekinetic displays, light illusions shaped into animals. Neon signs draped the buildings like ribbons, flickering with logos and hero merchandise.
Aoi led the way, pulling Kazuma along with a grin.
"C'mon, Kazuma! You have to try this! The Hero Doughnuts are shaped like their emblems!"
Kazuma (Ice Mode) smirked lightly.
"They're just doughnuts."
"But they're shaped! That makes them taste better!"
"Is that how food works?"
"It is if you believe."
He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Fire Mode, surprisingly, didn't speak—but Kazuma felt the flame's quiet warmth from within. Even Fire Mode adored Aoi in his own way. She was one of the few people who treated Kazuma as something human, not a living experiment with two souls and an unstable body.
But something else about today nagged at him. Every time they laughed, every time Aoi tugged on his sleeve, every time she pointed at something cute or fun or awe-inducing. He felt it.
Someone was watching them.
No.
Someone was watching him.
The feeling slithered across his skin like a cold draft. Kazuma glanced around as they walked—casual at first, then sharper, more measured. His eyes scanned reflective surfaces, rooftops, crowds, shadows.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
*Someone's there.*
Kazuma felt Fire Mode's voice simmer as the flame within him stirred.
*They're masking their presence. But not from me. And definitely not from you.*
Kazuma swallowed.
"Hey, Aoi?" he said softly as they passed a fountain lit with holographic fish.
"Hm?"
"…Does anything feel weird to you?"
Aoi blinked.
"Weird? Like… what kind of weird?"
"I don't know. Like someone's watching us."
Aoi giggled.
"Of course someone's watching! The crowd's huge today!"
"…No. Not like that."
She tilted her head, thoughtful.
"Hmm… I don't feel anything. Are you sure you're not just imagining it?"
Kazuma hesitated. Normally he'd agree. He was prone to paranoia. Trauma left cracks. But Fire Mode spoke again.
*You're not imagining it. And neither am I.*
Kazuma forced a breath out of his nose.
"It's nothing. Don't worry."
Aoi gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder.
"You worry too much."
He didn't respond.
Because his instincts—the same instincts that kept him alive when scientists wanted to dissect him—were screaming louder with each passing minute.
Someone was following him. Someone with precision. Someone who knew how to stalk without leaving a trace. But he refused to concern Aoi with that.
She was smiling again. Even if it was a lie, it was a lie he was fine with.
...
...
...
Night fell like a velvet curtain over Aegis Prime.
Kazuma had left Aoi near the main plaza after a long day of touring vendors and watching heroic gimmicks. She waved him off with her usual cheer.
"I'll head home early! Don't take too long, okay?"
He nodded.
"Got it."
Fire Mode murmured inside him.
*She's lying again.*
Kazuma clenched his jaw.
"Let her lie," he muttered as he stepped into the restroom. "It makes her feel safe."
Fire Mode scoffed.
*Safety is an illusion. You know better. Thats how you always kept her safe.*
Kazuma washed his hands, dried them, and stepped back into the hallway after using the restroom. However, the feeling from earlier returned instantly.
He was being watched. Not by random civilians. Not by a curious hero or a passerby. This was different.
Precise.
Quiet.
Intentional.
He walked slow at first. Then faster. Then with purpose.
He traced the hallways—right turn, left turn, another hall, another open passage. The architecture bled into itself: white marble floors, polished chrome fixtures, the faint scent of incense.
Still watched.
Still followed.
Still hunted.
Kazuma's pulse quickened. His breath sharpened.
*He's following us.*
He stepped into the garden, the last place they had seen Asol acting strangely.
The wind brushed against the bamboo. The water in the central fountain shimmered under moonlight. The chimes clicked softly with the breeze. The air felt heavier than it should have, as if carrying someone's breath.
Kazuma walked to the fountain.
The surface of the water reflected his face—and behind him, faint and warped, a second presence. A twist of flame behind his shoulder. Fire Mode's soul flickered in the water like an inverse reflection.
Kazuma didn't blink. He spoke—loud enough for someone hiding in the shadows to hear.
"Are you going to stand there in silence…"
He straightened, turning just slightly.
"Or are you going to face me?"
Silence. The wind curled around him. Something shifted just out of view—too quick for civilians to notice, too subtle for most heroes to sense. But Kazuma felt it. In the water's reflection, a shape moved.
Someone. Watching. Waiting.
Kazuma's eyes sharpened and Fire Mode laughed softly inside his mind
*He finally found us.*
The wind nudged the bamboo chimes overhead—soft, eerie, too gentle for the pounding in Kazuma's chest. Moonlight pushed through the leaves, scattering fragments of silver across the garden stones.
*He's behind you.*
Fire Mode's voice crackled like smoldering coals as Kazuma's eyes narrowedand his breath chilled.
His free hand rose slightly, palm open drawing in the surrounding moisture. Frost gathered, coalescing into a thick layer of ice that wrapped around his fist like crystallized armor. The temperature plummeted and a pale mist curling around his arm.
Kazuma pivoted sharply, turning his body twisted in a perfect arc as his muscles snapped into motion, ice cracking as his fist launched toward the stalker with lethal force.
A shockwave then erupted as the punch struck something solid.
No—something that caught it. The fountain water burst upward in a spiraling plume. The bamboo chimes rattled violently. Leaves tore from branches. Shards of ice scattered across the stones like shattered glass. His eyes widened at the surprise his fist had been stopped by a single hand, a hand of darkened, glowing Adamantium.
Kazuma's breath caught in his throat.
"…Asol?"
The boy in front of him managed a tired smile.
"Didn't think the first thing you'd do when you saw me again was try to shatter my jaw."
Kazuma yanked his fist back, stumbling a half-step back as the ice around it cracked and flaked off.
"We need to talk. Now."
Kazuma's hands clenched.
"You—What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people?!"
Asol raised an eyebrow.
"You were the one trying to punch me."
Fire Mode's voice snarled inside Kazuma's skull:
*Let me out. I'll finish what he started.*
Kazuma clenched his jaw.
No. Not here. Not with him.
He took a shaky breath and glared.
"You disappear for days without a word, Aoi cries herself sick, and then you just show up behind me like this?! Do you even realize what you've done?!"
Asol didn't flinch.
"I know exactly what I've done," he said. "And I know where I've been."
Kazuma stepped forward, ice curling around his feet.
"Then tell me."
"No."
The answer hit Kazuma harder than the shockwave.
"No? What do you mean—no?"
Asol's eyes darkened, not threatening, but heavy—like the weight of something he had been carrying for far too long.
"There are things I can't say unless I know I can trust you," Asol said. "Completely."
Kazuma's jaw tightened.
"Trust? I've been with you since day one on this planet. I fought beside you. I trained you. What more do you want from me?!"
Asol looked him dead in the eyes.
"The truth."
Kazuma froze. The garden air turned colder than his Aura.
"… The truth about what?"
Asol crossed his arms.
"You've been hiding something from me. From everyone."
Kazuma took a single step back before he could stop himself and Asol noticed. His voice softened—dangerously.
"When I mentioned the underground world to Aoi, she panicked. But you hesitated."
Kazuma's eyes widened. Asol's voice was steady—too steady.
"And you looked like you knew something. You reacted like someone who had seen more than he wanted to admit. Something that no one else should've known nor seen."
Kazuma's breath hitched.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do."
"I said I don't!"
"I'm not here to fight you, Kazuma."
Kazuma's fingers twitched, ice creeping up his arm.
"Good. Because you wouldn't win."
Asol didn't bite. He simply tilted his head, studying Kazuma like he was trying to solve a puzzle that refused to click into place.
"You're protecting someone," Asol said softly. "Or something."
Kazuma froze again as Asol stepped closer.
"Is it you?"
Kazuma shook his head violently.
"Stop."
"Is it Aoi?"
Kazuma slammed his palm into the fountain's stone edge. A layer of ice exploded across the surface.
"I SAID STOP!"
Asol didn't move.
The cold spread across the fountain, sharp and jagged like the inside of Kazuma's chest.
He shut his eyes, breathing hard.
Asol waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until—
"…Asol," Kazuma whispered finally, voice cracking on the edges. "I don't know what you want from me."
Asol answered without hesitation.
"I want the truth."
Kazuma's expression twisted. Pain, fear, and rage were all crashing into each other behind his eyes.
"You're not ready for it," he whispered.
"I have to be."
"You think you do. You think you're prepared to hear what I know. But if I tell you, if I say it out loud—everything will break."
"It's breaking anyway."
Kazuma's breath trembled.
Asol took one more step.
"Kazuma."
"…What?"
Asol's voice finally dropped—calm, quiet, deadly serious.
"Does Providence have something over you?"
Kazuma stopped breathing. The garden went still. Even the floating petals seemed to freeze mid-air.
Fire Mode whispered within, horrified-
*Don't answer that. Kazuma—DON'T.*
Kazuma stared at Asol as if he'd just spoken a forbidden spell. His pupils shrank. His shoulders tensed. He looked cornered—cornered in a way Asol had never seen. If Aoi were there, she would have noticed it immediately. Asol did too.
Kazuma's voice finally came, but barely audible.
"…You don't understand."
"Then make me."
"I can't."
"No. You won't."
Kazuma's fists clenched so hard ice cracked across his knuckles.
"You're walking toward something you can't come back from," he hissed. "If you push this, if you keep prying, everything will fall apart."
Asol's jaw tightened.
"It already is."
Kazuma shook his head, voice rising almost desperately.
"You think Providence is your enemy? You think he's the one you need to fight? You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know what he's already done."
"Then tell me!"
"I CAN'T!"
The last shout echoed through the garden, bouncing between stone and bamboo.
Kazuma was shaking.
Asol breathed out.
"Kazuma," he said softly, "I'm your friend."
Kazuma's voice cracked.
"And that's exactly why I can't tell you."
Silence again. The kind that hurt. Asol stepped back as his hands lowered and his voice no longer demanding—but pleading.
"Kazuma… please."
Kazuma turned his head away.
"…He owns me," he whispered, the words barely escaping. "He owns my life. He owns my fire. He owns my ice. My body. My past. My everything."
Asol's heart sank.
And then Kazuma added, barely more than a breath-
"…and if I disobey him… he'll kill Aoi."