The wind stirred the dust cloud, revealing the aftermath. The asphalt was cracked. A streetlight lay toppled. Part of the bridge had buckled slightly from the final impact. And in the middle of it all… the man in the suit walked calmly, as if he’d just stepped out of a café.

  No sirens yet. No security drones. Just the echo of the blow, still lingering in the air like a memory.

  The man stopped for a second, looked to the side, and spoke as if to someone invisible.

  “All clear. You can come clean up.”

  A small blue light blinked on the edge of his lapel—a communication signal. A coded reply came through, one only he could understand.

  He took off his sunglasses calmly, revealing intense brown eyes. He rubbed them a bit with his handkerchief—more out of habit than need, the kind of habit formed by someone who rarely sleeps.

  “Next time I’m bringing my espresso before the mission,” he muttered, like someone grumbling about a desk job.

  Meanwhile, the villain began to breathe raggedly. Like a wounded animal that refused to accept defeat.

  “D…damn it…” he spat, blood between his teeth. “Who the hell… are you… bastard…?”

  The man barely turned his head. He didn’t bother to approach. His voice remained soft—but there was nothing kind in his tone.

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  “Someone with class.”

  A holographic screen lit up in front of him. A projection displaying the Suits guild logo and an identifier.

  “Threat level A neutralization confirmed. Intervention classified. Subject identity: Igris Kraven. Report sent to Node S.A.”

  He swiped the hologram away with a flick of his hand. Then, he pulled out a small gold pocket watch. Opened it, checked the time, and put it back.

  “Five and a half minutes… I’m getting slow.”

  Several bystanders had begun peeking from afar. A few news drones were already flying toward the wreckage.

  The man sighed. He hated drones.

  The wind stirred the flawless fabric of his suit as he remembered Axel, running away while holding the girl’s hand. He stood silently among the rubble and dust, watching.

  “That kid was scared,” he murmured to himself. “But he stepped up anyway. Sometimes courage isn’t the absence of fear… it’s acting in spite of it.”

  He slid his hands into his pockets with a relaxed motion. Then he pursed his lips as something occurred to him.

  “I forgot to give him my card… what a shame.”

  But then he noticed the embroidered crest on the lower edge of Axel’s uniform, barely visible under his civilian clothes. He smiled.

  “So he goes to the Academy… I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

  He turned one last time toward the villain’s limp body and left a final sentence behind, like a verbal tombstone:

  “If you ever get up from there… come find me, if you dare.”

  And with that farewell, he walked toward a sleek black car, hovering low by the edge of the road.

  The doors opened on their own. He stepped in.

  And vanished.

  As if he had never been there at all.