Speed and Trio exited the school building just as the sky began its slow transition into orange. The sun dipped behind the rooftops, casting long shadows over the campus.
The two walked Lazily together through the quieter part of the district on their way back home. Their footsteps echoing down the sidewalk.
Speed wiped his hand down his face. "Man I'm so glad that's over. I'm so exhausted. That bathroom kid wasn't tryna let me breathe, man."
Trio kept looking forward. "Yeah well, that's what you signed up for. Isn't it?"
Speed glanced over at his direction. "What're you tryna say?"
Trio dropped his chin. "What I'm saying is, you and I know more than anyone how Core Heroes are treated around here. Now you wanna act all surprised when it starts happening to you? Gimme a break."
Speed smacked his lips. "Chill out, bro. You're acting like I wanted this—"
"Nah, but you chose it." Trio quickly responded.
"Yeah, of course I did." Speed responded. "One of us had to."
Trio glanced over with a side eye. "Tch. Yeah whatever."
Speed shook his head. "I don't know what your problem is. You know, there was a point where you wanted to be a Core Hero just as much as anyone else. You remember that don't you."
"Yeah, for sure." Trio said, nodding his head. "But that was a long time ago. Before I realized that being a Core Hero only came with conditional love and unwanted expectations."
"You think they love you now?" Trio continued. "Wait till you make a mistake. They'll be ready to toss you aside like trash."
Speed held up his hands. "Listen the thing is, I don't disagree. But to be completely honest, I don't care. I don't care about fans, or praise, or hate, or any of that crap."
"I just wanna… help people." He said as he narrowed his eyes forward. "Losing someone you care about… we both know how much that sucks. I can't change how It's affected me, but If I can prevent others from having to experience it themselves… that's gonna be what heals me."
"Even Mom," He continued, his voice softened. "She tries to hide it, but you know she hasn't been the same since… Dad. So I won't rest until I've become strong enough to help her heal too."
Trio looked ahead, his expression unreadable. "Yeah, good morals," he muttered. "But what happens if you fail too?"
That one landed deep.
Speed slowed slightly, his gaze falling to the pavement. He stayed quiet, choosing not to respond.
Trio noticed. His voice eased up. "…My bad," he said. "That was too far. I didn't mean it like that."
Speed stayed quiet for another moment before giving a faint nod.
Trio added, "Hey, you're handling it better than me I guess. So I f that's what you want to do… I'll support it."
Speed looked over and managed a small smile. "Thanks."
After a few more steps in silence, Speed spoke up again. "Look, I think we should go meet up with Magic Man. I still have questions about the course—how it works, what we're really getting into. He might have some good advice."
"Ugh. Can't you do that on your own time?" Trio groaned.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'd rather just go home. I don't want to see that clown right now."
"Come on." Speed said. "Give him a break. He's going through just as much as we have. And now he's got all of Hero Society on his back since being named the new #1 S-Rank Hero."
Trio narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah? Then where's he been all this time?"
"Fighting! What do you mean?" Speed quickly responded.
"There aren't many strong Core Heroes left. Can you imagine the threats he has to deal with out in Human Society? Not just Villains—those beasts are strong as heck too. I bet even YOU couldn't beat one right now."
Trio smirked. "Yeah right. You're too optimistic."
He looked away. "If you ask me… I think he's hiding from us. I think he knows something he can't tell us. Probably something about Dad—"
"Stop," Speed said sharply.
Trio looked over, surprised.
"You need to get over it," Speed continued, his tone strained.
"You think you're hurt? You don't even know. If only you knew… if… only…"
His voice broke off as he stared up at the darkening sky.
The two kept walking, the tension thick between them, the conversation quieting as they both retreated into their own thoughts.
Trio and Speed continued their silent walk back home. The setting sun slightly hidden by the rooftops.
***
But somewhere in a far different part of the world—
There was no sun.
Instead, there was a moonlit night hovering over the peaks of tall, sleek, vibrant skyscrapers.
They stood above a skyline of glass spires and holographic billboards that stretched upward like a digital forest. Every building humming with neon veins of Source-tech.
This was Villain Society.
Hover-rails wove between towers. Street-level markets buzzed with life. Music thumped from open plazas. Drones zipped by carrying food, packages, even pets.
The city was clean. Loud. Alive. Thriving.
And at its center… a massive broadcasting hub. And almost every TV in the country was set to the same channel.
VTV STUDIOS—Live Broadcast
Inside, the studio crackled with energy. Rows of modern seating wrapped around a circular stage lit with shifting panels of light.
Cameras hovered like metallic drones, adjusting shots, updating overlays, making sure to catch every angle.
The show had already been running for over an hour. From interviews to live performances to news updates and more.
Audience members—from F-Rank citizens to A-Rank lieutenants, members of the press, men, women, old and young—all cheered, booed, or debated loudly during the event.
But everyone was only tuned in for one thing.
The host already stood upon the stage, a young woman with long black hair that flowed over her chest in soft, luscious waves. She wore an all black latex outfit with vibrant purple accents that shaped perfectly around her curved figure.
Syren—#4 B-Rank Villain.
She moved along the center stage with the posture and theatrical flair of an influencer that knew how to play a crowd.
As she put the mic to her lips, a playful smile crept across her face. "Well everybody, I know you'd all kill to keep watching my beautiful face for the rest of the night…"
The crowd howled with cheers and whistles.
"…buttt we're gonna be switching lanes into our last segment. And trust me…you're not gonna wanna miss this one." Her smile grew wider. "We're gonna have a little Ted talk with the King of Creation himself."
———
Backstage, her voice carried through the loudspeakers. The cheers from the crowd reverberated through the room as security lined the walls.
All with polished black uniforms, sleek Source-tech visors, posture sharp. Not out of fear but respect.
She signaled the queue.
The house lights dimmed to a theatrical glow.
The crowd buzzed, excitement sharpening into something electric.
Then—
A sliding panel door hissed open, and a man walked out. Strolling forward with casual confidence and a charming smile, bright enough to influence nations.
Manifest.
Once, the most feared power wielder alive.
Now? Something more… or less. No one could agree anymore.
He wore an all-black silk dress shirt, halfway unbuttoned, collar loose, chest exposed with effortless authority.
His hair flared out in all directions, spiked bangs covering his left eye, giving him an untamed, mysterious, yet dominating presence.
As he entered the spotlight, the crowd erupted.
Some cheered.
A few jeered.
Others just leaned forward out of pure anticipation.
Manifest lifted a hand in an unbothered greeting.
Syren plopped comfortably in her seat next to a podium that stood near center stage. Crossing her legs as she patiently watched the introduction of the king of Villain Society himself.
As Manifest approached the podium, the crowd quieted. He tapped the mic twice… then paused.
He put up a single as he reached into his pocket with his other hand. After a beat, he pulled out a blunt.
He put it to his lips, pulled out a lighter, a sparked it up with a lazy flick of the thumb.
Flick. Flick.
He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl upward with calm serenity.
Then—
He flashed a devious grin, and held out the blunt to a security guard standing beside the podium.
"You want a hit?"
The guard stiffened; politely declining with a small bow.
Manifest laughed with amusement under his breath, smoke spilling from the corner of his mouth.
He stepped toward the mic—"Well hello there… Villains."
Another wave of cheers rode through the crowd. Manifest calmly nodded his head in wait.
Syren spoke into the mic. "Well hello to you, Mr. Manifest."
Manifest put a hand up with a smile. "Please, Syren. You know how I feel about formalities."
"Fair enough," Syren nodded. "Well i wanna start off by saying thank you for joining us at my studio! I mean we've had you on as a guest before but here? In the flesh? What could we have possibly done to deserve such a treat?" She leaned back into her chair, flashing a seductive grin.
"The honor is mine." He said. "I feel as though after so much time spent silence, my people deserve…"
He swept his gaze across the audience, finally landing on the main camera focused in on him. "An update."
Manifest leaned forward, resting his elbows on the podium with casual swagger.
Syren jumped from her seat and spun towards him. "Glad you brought it up! Obviously your public presence has been… on and off since the big war. So tell us a bit about your latest endeavors."
"Well…" Manifest said with a shrug. "Of course, meeting the many needs of the world's leading nation is no easy feat. Haha I mean I am…only human, right?" He asked with a mocking smile.
Snickers waved through the crowd as they laughed under their breath.
"In all seriousness though," he continued. "The reason I'm here now is because I wanted to personally address the countries biggest frustration that's been brought to my attention."
The audience quieted once again. Faint mumbling could be heard throughout the stands. Press members frantically typing away at their tablets, making sure to document every word.
Manifest put a hand to his chest with a humble nod. "Obviously, ever since the war five years ago, where I… tragically lost my power, my governors and I have been unable to expand Villain territory as promised. That… I do admit."
The audience reacted with mixed emotions. Some squinted, others broke into silent debates amongst themselves, others just stayed quiet in wait.
Syren zipped up to the podium and leaned into Manifest's face with a smile.
"Okay, but I know you wouldn't bring something like that up if you didn't have any big ideas flowing through that noodle of yours." She said as she poked the side of his temple in a playful gesture.
Then she leaned back and eyed him hard. "So… what grand schemes are you cooking up this time around?? Hmmmm?"
Manifest smiled. "Heh. That's still a secret—"
"HEY MANIFEST! OVER HERE." A voice yelled out from the crowd.
A man with a tablet wearing a press uniform. All black outfit with a hat that had a "VTV News" logo stamped on it.
Manifest looked his way and nodded his head up at him. The man pushed a button a on his earpiece to speak. "The people wanna know. Are there any updates on your son? It seems as though you've been intentionally keeping his whereabouts unknown. Care to explain?"
Manifest's demeanor remained calm as the crowd leaned forward. His smile unwavering. "Well then, you're quite impatient aren't you?"
He narrowed his eyes at them man with a calm grin. "That was gonna be my next talking point. You tryna steal my thunder or sumn?"
Everyone looked his direction, the man leaned back with a nervous grin. "No.. I-I—"
"Just kidding, man." Manifest followed up. "It's a good question. You're right, I've been keeping my son out of the public eye for quite some time. At the time, If any information about him were to be leaked to the outside world, it could've created more problems rather than solving them."
He stood up straight, posture confident. "So I'm here now to announce the unveiling of our greatest secret weapon."
Anticipation hummed throughout the entire audience—no the entire nation.
"You see, shortly after the war, my Elite scientists have made an interesting discovery on my son's latent power awakening." He said.
Syren smiled, already knowing what was coming. Everyone in the audience leaned in. Citizens at home turned up their TV's, eyes focused on the screen. Manifest's face posted on every screen, in bars, in plazas, on billboards, even local stores.
He cracked a wide, menacing grin. "My son is the first ever Power Wielder in recorded history to inherit the same power as his parent. To inherit… my power."
Gasps
It was almost as if the heart of the entire nation skipped a beat. All around, wide eyes, jaws dropped.
Everyone stuck in place.
Like the universe had hit pause on the entire country.
Manifest pointed a finger to the sky. "That one young man is now 18 years old. Meaning he is almost old enough to carry out the duty that was originally set for myself."
"With a bit more Training and preparation, he's going to shape up nicely to become… my true successor." Manifest said with a smirk.
A member from the audience screamed out. "WHAT'S HIS NAME?"
Everyone turned to face him, then turned back to look at Manifest.
Manifest chuckled. "His name? Good question… you know for the longest time the boy didn't even have a name. I just got away with calling him 'son'."
Manifest rubbed his go-tee. "But… after the awakening of his dormant power, I knew I had to give him one that represented the coming of a new age for this nation. And there was only one that I was satisfied with."
The audience focused hard, not even blinking. Syren just smiled.
Manifest dropped his chin and faced the camera. "His name is—"
***
Back in Hero Society, in an office building in the south district of New Metro City—
CRAAASH!
A reinforced steel door EXPLODED off its hinges, spiraling through the air.
It slammed through a filing cabinet , embedding itself inches deep in the wall behind it.
Paper flew wild all over the cramped room.
Dust swirled.
Then—
A silhouette appeared.
As the dust thinned, he emerged.
A sharp-jawed, hotheaded, young man with a cracked grin.
Manifest 2.
His outfit dripping with style and menace.
Almost as if he used fashion as a weapon more than a flex.
All black Timberland boots.
Black fitted jeans, loosely held up with a dark-red suede belt.
Long black denim coat with red fur lining on the collar and cuffs, hanging open with no undershirt, leaving his chest and abs out on full display.
And spiked black hair that flared outward like a messy crown.
His aura and presence carried the weight of someone who wasn't just some Villain. He was the world's biggest problem.
He took another step forward into filing room and took a sharp look around. Papers still floating in the air.
He snatched a file that floated past his head and opened it to take a look. Then he smacked his lips in disappointment. "Hm. Trash."