The distant hum of helicopters grew louder, the signal of the Hero Association's emergency response teams arriving. Spotlights swept across the battlefield, illuminating the destruction in stark, brutal clarity.
Agents and medics flooded the scene, tending to the wounded and securing the area.
From one of the helicopters, Director Watanabe stepped down, his normally stoic expression marred by barely contained horror.
He scanned the wreckage before locking eyes with Endeavor.
"This is worse than I expected," he muttered, his voice hoarse.
Endeavor's jaw tightened. "We underestimated him." He let the admission settle, the words bitter in his throat.
Watanabe didn't respond right away. His gaze flickered to the glowing symbol, lingering there. "We'll debrief at headquarters," he finally said.
"Get the wounded stabilized. We need to figure out what we're dealing with."
------------------------------------------
The conference room at the Hero Association headquarters was tense.
The top heroes, analysts, and officials gathered, watching the replayed battle footage on a massive screen.
Every devastating attack, every failed counter, every moment leading up to their crushing defeat played over and over again.
Watanabe stood at the head of the table, his hands gripping the edges as if bracing himself. "This changes everything," he said grimly. "Radahn—if that's even his real name—isn't just a villain with an unknown quirk."
Hawks, arms crossed, leaned forward. "He didn't even understand what we were. We called ourselves heroes, and he looked at us like we were speaking a foreign language."
Best Jeanist nodded.
Endeavor slammed his fist on the table, causing a few startled looks.
"Enough talking. We need to act. If he's still out there, we can't waste time."
The room fell into a heavy silence before Watanabe spoke. All top heroes will begin countermeasures immediately."
As the meeting dispersed, Hawks lingered, staring at the paused screen.
Radahn stood amidst the carnage, his massive hammer resting on his shoulder, his glowing eyes devoid of emotion.
"We'll find you," Endeavor muttered. "And next time, we'll be ready."
Meanwhile,
Far away, beneath a foreign sky, Radahn sat alone in the wilderness, staring into the fire.
His massive form cast a looming shadow against the trees.
He did not need warmth, nor food.
He closed his eyes , darkness submerged him as he wandered deep in his memories.
'A blood-red sky. An endless desert, where twisted bodies lay scattered across the dunes. Ghostly echoes of warriors cried out in agony, their faces lost to time. And in the distance, atop a warhorse barely able to carry its burden, a towering figure loomed.
Himself.
A broken god, stripped of reason, consumed by madness.
His own roars of fury rang in his ears, a cacophony of despair and rage. He saw blades pierce his flesh, felt his bones shatter, his mind torn asunder.
The last thing he saw before waking was the flash of golden light—an overwhelming radiance, banishing the blood-red sky.'
Radahn's eyes snapped open. His hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword.
'The forgotten deeds still haunts me'
He exhaled slowly, gazing up at the foreign stars above.
'The stars here are just dust, echoes and silent unlike our.'