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"Fine. Sounds easy enough."
He turned toward the door, steps controlled, but his shoulders tense under the suit.
"Whatever you say," he muttered, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.
He exited without looking back, leaving Richard sipping whisky in the silence.
The hallway outside was colder, quieter.
As Black Mentis walked, his mind sharpened instantly.
They're hiding something. The timing was too perfect. Sending all S-Rankers off-world? That wasn't logistics. That was a distraction. Or a setup. Or both.
His jaw clenched behind the mask.
What game are these idiots playing?
He moved through the corridor, boots echoing against polished metal floors. A cleaning drone zipped by, lights flickering in its reflection.
Mentis didn't slow.
For Ben Winchester, breaking away from HeroCorp wasn't rebellion—it was survival. He'd only stayed close enough to keep his family protected. Alan… powerless Alan… living in a world where the strong chewed up the weak and smiled for the cameras doing it.
His wife. His daughter. His son.
None of them existed to HeroCorp. And that was the only reason they were still safe.
Mentis had carved his distance carefully. Enough cooperation to avoid suspicion. Enough defiance to stay free.
The media still painted him as a loyal ally. HeroCorp let them. It was good PR.
But Mentis knew the truth. And so did Richard.
He reached the balcony overlook, wind coming in through the vents. He stared down at the island—training fields, holographic arenas, hero housing blocks. A whole city built on lies.
His thoughts grew darker.
The timing feels off. Something isn't right. My gut hasn't screamed this loud since five years ago… the time I wasn't there to stop it.
He clenched a fist.
What are these fools planning?
The wind brushed past him. His mask reflected the skyline—cold, unblinking.
He didn't move.
He only thought:
I'll find out. One way or another.
Five years ago, Ember City was alive.
Traffic horns. Vendor calls. Echoes of kids kicking a ball against a wall. Neon signs flickering on even in daylight. Suits rushing to work, teenagers glued to their phones, couples leaning close under the sun-washed glass towers.
Then— The sun disappeared.
It wasn't behind clouds. Nor an eclipse.
It was stolen ?
A shadow swallowed half the sky, crawling fast, unnatural, as if someone draped a burial shroud over the world. Warm air turned sharp and cold; people stopped mid-sentence, mid-step.
Someone muttered, "What… what the hell?"
Thunder rolled. But no rain. Just from the pressure—heavy enough to make ears pop.
And then he arrived.
Megalodon.
The Infernal Leviathan tore through the clouds like a planet falling. His presence alone shook skyscrapers; his shadow flickered around his form like living smoke, the air ripping as his Aura bent reality. His eyes—Six burning, hell-red voids—locked onto the city as if judging it.
People didn't scream at first. They were too stunned.
Then a woman dropped her bag.
Someone choked out, "D-Demons? RUN!"
It all snapped at once—
Panic detonated.
People shoved, tripped, clawed at each other to get away. Cars slammed into poles, metal folding like paper; drivers crashed through windows trying to escape. Mothers grabbed their kids and sprinted. A man got pinned under a fallen streetlight and screamed for help while the crowd trampled past him.
And behind Megalodon, two horrors descended.
One—massive, molten, obsidian skin splitting with streams of lava. The other—skeletal, twitching, tendrils writhing, its face melting between agony and malice.
Their claws dripped black energy that hissed when it hit air.
The ground trembled.
Megalodon's voice rolled across the city like God speaking from a grave.
"They're noisy. These worms… are a waste of space."
He raised one finger.
The air bent— Then collapsed.
BOOOOOOM.
A pressure shock ripped outward. Whole buildings imploded as if punched by an invisible titan. Windows didn't just shatter; they vaporized. Streets split open, swallowing screaming crowds. Cars flipped into the air—some burst on impact, some slammed into other buildings like burning torpedoes.
Everyone caught in the shockwave didn't even have time to suffer. They turned to dust mid-scream, erased by raw force.
Ember City fell apart.
But two figures stayed standing as the storm hit.
Tempestia and Moon Light stood in the street, debris swirling around them, hair and clothes whipping in the chaotic wind. They braced—their power flaring against the destruction.
Tempestia lifted a hand sharply left to right— And the shockwave bent around them like water hitting a cliff.
She took one step forward, eyes glowing silver-blue.
Moon Light exhaled slowly beside her, shadows and light flickering off his skin like broken neon.
"Oh man," he muttered, voice thick with dread. "Do we really gotta deal with this shit all by ourselves?"
Tempestia didn't look at him.
"We don't have a choice. Black Mentis isn't on Earth. We hold the line. Other heroes will evacuate who's left."
Moon Light rolled his shoulders, his aura twisting.
"Yeah, no pressure. If we screw this up, it's not like the whole damn planet gets flattened. Great. Fantasy demons. Why the fuck do they exist?"
Tempestia's tone sharpened.
"They do. And they're not jokes. Don't underestimate them. This is bigger than anything we've faced."
Moon Light cracked his knuckles, energy flaring.
'Fine. Let's send them back to whatever hell spat them out."
Smoke drifted across the ruined street. Ember's skyline burned behind them—falling towers, smashed monorails, exploding fire hydrants spraying boiling water.
Megalodon didn't move.
His massive head tilted.
"Are you both done yapping?"
He raised a claw, pointing lazily at them.
"Molvok. Nyzzor. Kill these two foolish fodder. After that… we find Omnithon's vessel. And absorb his essence."
The demons bowed.
"As you wish, my lord."
"Yes, sire…"