Under the gray skies of Pazadonna, smoke, dust, and the roaring of the monster tide echoed through the residential district. Collapsing buildings leaned precariously, shattered glass littered the streets, and once-bustling roads were now swallowed in chaos.
The monsters, their skin bristling with jagged spikes and eyes glowing blood-red, charged straight into the neighborhood, their howls tearing through the air. People scattered in all directions, screams of terror blending with the gunfire of the defense forces desperately trying to hold the line.
But high on a rooftop, Boltcrack stood with his arms crossed, eyes glinting with smug satisfaction. His golden armor caught the faint sunset breaking through the clouds, the embossed lightning-crack emblem on his chestplate flashing like a bold proclamation.
Boltcrack, the E-rank superhero famed across the region, was in no rush. Clearing out a monster tide like this wasn't hard for him—his electromagnetic powers could tear through the pack with a bit of effort, and he knew it.
But where was the fun in ending things too quickly? He smirked, looking down at the chaos below. His personal media team's drones circled him, capturing every perfect angle of his heroic stance.
"Zoom in on my face a little more," Boltcrack ordered his assistant through the earpiece, his tone brimming with self-satisfaction. "Make sure you catch the resolve in my eyes—cut that for Ticktop, and they'll eat it up."
His assistant, a young woman named Mira, sat in a control van a few blocks away. She shook her head but adjusted the camera as instructed. "Bolt, the monsters are closing in on the central district. Aren't you going to move? People are dying out there."
Boltcrack chuckled, the sound carrying through the comms. "So what if a few die? Mira, you don't understand media, do you? The more desperate things look, the brighter I shine. Let them wreck the place a bit more, then I'll swoop in, save a few orphans or single mothers. That kind of scene? Instant viral."
He raised his hand, a spark of electricity dancing between his fingers as if rehearsing for his grand entrance. "What do you think? I jump down, boom—blast the whole pack with lightning, then lift a kid in my arms and go, 'Don't be scared, I'm here'? Epic, right?"
Mira bit her lip, keeping her voice steady. "Bolt, HQ just reported that Lost Angel is about to be attacked too. The E-rank boss could emerge at any moment—if you don't finish here quickly, you won't make it there in time."
Boltcrack shrugged, stepping to the edge of the roof, letting the wind whip his crimson cape—a movement perfectly timed for the drone to catch. "Lost Angel? Ha, that rundown city? If I rush over now, kill that E-rank boss in ten minutes, what do I get? A tiny corner on the Lost Angel Times? A couple of posts on Quirkter no one will share? No thanks."
He bent down, picking up a shard of broken glass from the rooftop, using it as a mirror to check the perfectly gelled sweep of his blond hair. "You know those 'Outers' outside the walls? They live in those self-built neighborhoods because the city's packed, clinging to some pathetic hope of jobs, healthcare, or whatever they call a 'better life.' Pathetic. They don't want to go back to their poor village, so they've settled outside the walls and built their own homes—let them. They still pour into the city every day for work or school, thinking they belong, but when an emergency hits, the gates close. If they don't make it inside before the red alert goes off, the army will redirect them elsewhere — but the monsters will still hunt them, cutting them down long before they reach safety. And that's when I make my move—show up right in the middle of the carnage and 'save' everyone. Perfect timing."
Mira was silent for a moment, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Isn't that… a bit cruel?"
Boltcrack smirked, tossing the glass shard aside, letting it shatter on the street below. "Cruel? They're just Outers, Mira. Filthy parasites. A few dozen dead makes for a good headline with big numbers, but you know the best part? People will be hooked by the 'dozens dead' headline, but no one actually cares—because they're just Outers. No one's going to blame anyone for their deaths.
If I save them before anything even happens, who's watching? Who's donating? Will the big papers cover it? No. They might even blame me for being late. But if I let that boss slaughter a bit longer, ramp up the drama, and then descend like a god to strike it down in one blow? Bam—front page, trending hashtags, millions of views. I'm a superhero, not a charity."
He raised his hand, signaling the drone to pull back for a wide shot, framing him on the rooftop with the city drowning in chaos behind him. Another monster roared from the street, smashing through a wall, and the screams of civilians rang out again. Boltcrack smiled, electricity flickering in his hand. "Get ready, Mira. And make sure the final cut looks like I sprinted here at full speed."
"Evacuation will be handled by the army," the cold voice of the Committee's operator crackled through Inferno Knuckle's comm, making his chest tighten. Born and raised in the Outer Wall, Knuckle knew all too well what this "evacuation" really meant.
They had banked on Boltcrack showing up, letting the crucial golden window to pull the Outer Wall's civilians into the city slip away. Now it was too late—once the emergency defense order was issued, Lost Angel's gates would slam shut without a gap. Those outside—families, children, people clinging to a fragile hope—if they didn't make it in, would be "evacuated" in another direction.
But Knuckle knew the monsters' hunting instincts—they would chase, tearing apart the fleeing crowd long before they reached safety. The army, no matter how hard they tried, couldn't protect them all.
The authorities called it "unavoidable," and in a way, Knuckle understood why. People had settled outside the walls because there was no space left in Lost Angel's safe zones. They stayed for work, for medical care, for education, or simply for the hope of a better life. In normal times, the only difference was a longer commute. But when disaster struck, that line became the border between heaven and hell.
Knuckle clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. He knew no government branch would dare keep the gates open just to save the people stuck outside of the wall. The precedent existed—and it had ended with thousands dead, a city nearly wiped out.
Taking a deep breath, Knuckle turned to the others. "Disband the mission team. Everyone is free to withdraw." Then he pressed another button on his comm, his voice calm. "We're ending operations here. We'll discuss specifics later."
The director on the other end sounded relieved. "Understood, Knuckle. We'll wrap the broadcast once you're fully withdrawn. Don't worry about the contract."
As the others began packing up, Mai approached Knuckle, her rifle slung over her shoulder, her sharp gaze tinged with curiosity. "You're staying, aren't you?" she asked, without judgment. Knuckle looked at her and didn't answer the question—he simply said, "You should leave too, Mai."
She didn't answer, only held his gaze in silence. Knuckle called over to the next tent, "Solstice, take Mai back, will you?" Solstice raised a brow, seeming to guess what Knuckle intended, but didn't argue. He nodded, signaling Mai and Lilith to follow.
At the forest's edge, Solstice pulled out a small device, pressed a button, and a hovercar descended quietly, its dim lights spilling over the area. Mai studied it with curiosity, realizing it might be a form of transportation—this world seemed to have no end to the strange things it could produce.
She was about to follow Lilith onto the vehicle, but paused. She stood there in silence for a moment, the forest breeze tugging at her hair, before finally stepping back. Letting out a quiet sigh, she turned toward the darkened camp deep in the forest. "You go ahead. I'll head back later."
Lilith started to speak, but Solstice cut her off with a quiet huff, slamming the hovercar's door and signaling the driver to start. The vehicle lifted off slowly, the hum of its engine fading into the night wind, leaving Mai alone at the forest's edge. She gazed at the faint city lights on the horizon, then turned back toward the woods.
"So Boltcrack couldn't make it," Peter, the male host, remarked in the studio, as the screen played slow-motion footage from Pazadonna — Boltcrack sweeping a beautiful woman into his arms, lightning arcing dramatically around them while the monster's claws froze inches from her face.
Mary, the female host, added gently, "That's right, Peter. Things are tense in Pazadonna, with reports of civilian casualties." She paused, then noted, "But the situation in Lost Angel isn't looking much better—the E-rank boss could leave the Gate any moment now."
Peter's tone grew somber. "The Committee has decided to cancel the F-rank team's mission and ordered them to retreat immediately. So I'm afraid our show will have to end early—unless something unexpected happens."
Mary looked concerned. "Solstice's and Evermoss's teams have withdrawn, but it seems Inferno Knuckle has chosen a different path. We're not sure what he's planning, but if he intends to face an E-rank boss—a whole rank above him—that's a bold decision."
The livestream chat exploded, comments flooding in:
[Why's Knuckle staying? Planning to solo an E-rank boss?]
[It's not like no one's ever beaten above their rank, but Knuckle doesn't look like that kind of hero.]
[Desperate for fame, maybe? Playing with his life.]
[Only the sidekicks were assigned cameras to begin with. If they've all left, what's the point?]
[Just send another cam after Knuckle??]
[Show's about sidekicks, duh. Heroes are here for the mission, the show's just a side gig.]
[Put a cam on a hero without their consent? Hello lawsuit 💀]
[Wait, where's Mai's camera feed going?]
[Wasn't she supposed to leave with Solstice's team?]
[Nah, she dipped back into the forest 💀]
The feed switched to Mai's POV. Under the moonlight, she stood quietly at the forest edge, rifle on her shoulder. Instead of boarding the hovercar with Solstice and Lilith, she turned and walked back into the woods. The chat went wild:
[What the hell is Mai doing? Not retreating, going back?]
[She's a rank 1 Raiser! Picking off stray monsters is one thing, but if she runs into a full pack, she's dead.]
[Where's she going? Knuckle's not even in that direction. Is she lost?]
[Lost? Look at her face—calm as ever. She's got a plan.]
[A plan? What plan—scratch the boss with her bullets?]
[Superchat $50 from ThunderFan: Somebody tell her to get back, stop being reckless!]
The footage showed Mai stopping by a massive tree, its trunk draped in moss and withered vines. She scanned the surroundings, nodded in satisfaction, then swiftly climbed up, finding a sturdy branch. Sitting cross-legged, she rested her rifle across her lap and closed her eyes.
[What is she doing?]
[Sleeping?]
[She just climbed a tree to meditate in the middle of the forest, right before the monster tide hits?]
[Doing yoga in nature? Those YouToob channels get pretty popular, you know.]
[She's insane.]