Monday morning.
9:03 a.m.
Adrian was halfway through a lecture on sovereign debt restructuring when the glass windows darkened.
Not clouds.
A void.
It tore open above the Business District like someone had taken a scalpel to the sky.
Black geometry unfolded silently.
Then—
The sirens began.
Phones vibrated across the classroom simultaneously.
EMERGENCY ALERT — VOID RIFT DETECTED — BUSINESS DISTRICT SECTOR 3 — SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY
The professor froze.
Outside, traffic stopped mid-lane.
In the distance, Adrian could already see evacuation routes activating — automated barricades rising, underground bunker entrances unlocking. Nearby companies had protocols to tackle this already. Some stakeholders were rushed underground, others ran. The entire US market halted.
Adrian stood.
Across the room—
Cassian did too.
Their eyes met.
Not glowing.
Just understanding.
Cassian grabbed his backpack and moved quickly toward the hallway.
Bathroom.
Of course.
Transformation privacy.
Adrian felt it too.
The shift in pressure.
The static before monsters emerge.
He turned slightly.
Samantha was already looking at him.
No words.
They moved.
Cassian entered a restroom stall.
A golden light ignited.
Transformation completes in roughly 10 seconds.
Outside—
Spark launched into the sky. His white-gold armor glitters in the morning sun.
He was flashy to the naked eye.
And blinding to those eager enough to compare.
Electric arcs cracked through the air as he accelerated toward the rift.
News drones were already arriving.
Hero Corp response times were terrifyingly efficient.
Lower-ranked heroes deployed first.
C-Class units formed evacuation perimeters.
- Stonewall (C-Class) — an earth manipulator who raised waist-high barriers to redirect fleeing civilians.
- Pulse (C-Class) — short-range concussive bursts to knock back lesser creatures.
- Anchor (C-Class) — gravity stabilization, preventing panicked stampedes.
They weren’t flashy.
They were essential.
B-Class arrived next.
- Frostline (B-Class) — ice barriers to contain spreading void corruption.
- Tremor (B-Class) — localized shockwaves to destabilize monster footing.
- Medicore (B-Class) — battlefield triage specialist enhancing clotting and stabilizing trauma victims.
A-Class units followed.
- Skyblade (A-Class) — aerial slicing arcs of compressed wind, targeting mid-sized demons.
- Aegis Field (A-Class) — large-scale protective dome shielding evacuation zones.
- Vector (A-Class) — kinetic redirection specialist, sending projectiles back into portals.
Then—
Lightning split the sky.
Spark arrived.
S-Class Rank 20.
Gold-white energy erupted outward in controlled beams.
Clean.
Precise.
No wasted motion.
He didn’t roar.
He didn’t posture.
He stabilized the airspace around the rift, converting chaotic void discharge into grounded electrical dissipation.
He looked like he belonged there.
Adrian watched from a side street.
Of course he did.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
A new sound.
Mechanical.
Dozens of humanoid figures descended from transport carriers.
Sleek silver chassis.
Black visors.
Each bore the logo:
Nanotech
Cassian’s father’s company.
The robots moved in coordinated precision.
Multi-jointed limbs.
Adaptive plating.
Energy cannons embedded in forearms.
Some deployed micro-drones that latched onto demons and self-detonated.
Others extended blade-arms of oscillating plasma.
Their formation pattern was flawless.
They fought like algorithms.
Above them, a voice transmitted through comms.
Calm.
Filtered.
“Deploying secondary suppression protocol. Maintain formation.”
S-Class Rank 5.
The Puppeteer.
Not physically present.
Remote-controlled through neural interface.
A dozen demon-killing machines acting as his hands.
Adrian narrowed his eyes.
So this was the scale.
Hero Corp wasn’t just powered individuals.
It was infrastructure.
Capital.
Technology.
Integration.
Cisco would love this.
Meanwhile.
Alley.
Adrian’s body rearranged.
Thirty seconds of bone grinding and muscle distortion.
Dark armor formed.
Red eyes burned.
Samantha’s skin stretched pale.
Her mouth widened.
White tentacles uncoiled like surgical instruments.
Adrian spoke low.
“Stay out of official sightlines. We clean the overflow.”
She nodded.
They moved alongside streets where surveillance was thinner.
Demons slipped past the main engagement.
Smaller entities.
Crawler-types.
Void-hounds.
Samantha excelled at range.
Her worms pierced and devoured lesser creatures instantly.
Each consumption made her movements sharper.
More precise.
Adrian handled the larger ones.
Close combat.
Breaking spines.
Crushing skulls.
Efficient.
Brutal.
No spectacle.
Then—
They saw him.
A man in a white blouse.
Mask covering his face.
Standing calmly in the middle of an active conflict zone.
Writing in a notebook.
Samantha paused mid-kill.
“His soul signal is strange,” she whispered. “Not demonic. Not clean either. It’s… layered.”
Adrian studied him.
The fluctuations weren’t infernal.
They were… multiple.
Stacked.
The man didn’t appear concerned.
He adjusted his glasses.
Kept writing.
The masked man finally looked up.
Two demon-forms staring at him.
He blinked.
“…Ah.”
He slowly closed his notebook.
Then turned and ran.
Not heroically.
Not strategically.
Just ran.
Samantha’s worm shot forward instantly.
Wrapped around his torso.
Pulled him violently back into the alley.
He hit the wall.
Hands raised.
“Okay! Okay! Fine!”
Samantha’s worms hovered near his throat.
Adrian stepped closer.
The man exhaled.
“Great S-Class Rank 10 Doktor,” he announced dramatically. “Captured by alley demons. I’m never living this down.”
Adrian blinked.
“Wait. You’re a hero?”
Silence.
Samantha loosened her grip slightly.
The man tilted his head.
“…Yes?”
She withdrew the worms.
The man adjusted his blouse and sighed.
“Look, I wasn’t assigned here. I can be anywhere. That’s kind of the point.”
He tapped his chest.
“Clones. Lots of clones. This one is disposable.”
Samantha narrowed her eyes.
“You were observing.”
“Of course I was observing,” he replied casually. “Demons exterminating other demons? Fascinating ecological dynamic.”
He gestured toward the battle outside.
“And if someone goes down, I can stabilize them instantly. Background support is way more efficient than flashy heroics.”
He shrugged.
“I like support.”
Adrian froze slightly at the tone.
Something about it.
The cadence.
The mild sarcasm.
The calm.
“…You’re not afraid of us,” Samantha said.
The man glanced at her worms.
“Oh I am. Very. Soul-consumption types are terrible for hive minds. You could probably trace my central node if you tried hard enough.”
He sighed again.
“So I surrender.”
Adrian stared at him.
Support player.
Background analyst.
Calm under chaos.
A strange love for drama observation.
He remembered.
League of Legends.
High school.
Top lane.
Support.
“Do you,” Adrian began carefully, “happen to know anyone in this school?”
The masked man tilted his head.
“Depends who’s asking.”
Adrian slowly removed his demon mask.
Red eyes dimmed.
His human face reappeared.
“…Peter?”
The masked man’s jaw dropped.
He tore off his mask.
“…Adrian?”
Peter Weiss.
High school friend.
Now—
The Doktor.
S-Class Rank 10.
Standing in an alley between two demons.
“Bro,” Peter said, staring at him. “What the hell happened to you?”