In a dim, cold room lit only by a flickering ceiling light, a man sat bound tightly to a tal chair, thick anti-break fibers coiled around his wrists, ankles, and chest.
These restraints were strong enough to hold even a trained hero—an unmistakable sign that whoever had tied him up wasn't taking chances.
The silence was broken by the creak of a door slowly swinging open. In stepped a tall, imposing figure draped in a mantle of black feathers that seed to ripple like smoke with every movent.
His presence was chilling, regal in a twisted way. Raven Spawn had arrived.
Trailing just behind him was Crash, the speedster Ethan had previously clashed with—lean, sharp-eyed, and brimming with untad energy.
The mont the man tied to the chair, Smole, laid eyes on them, panic lit up in his expression like a flare in the night.
"Boss! You gotta believe !" Smole scread, his voice cracking. "I'm not a mole! I would never betray the organization, I swea—"
In a flash Crash was suddenly in front of him.
As His fist connected with Smole's face in an instant, the sound of the impact echoing through the room like a gunshot.
Blood sprayed from Smole's mouth as his head snapped sideways, silencing him.
Crash stepped back, eyes cold. "Don't talk without the boss's permission."
Smole whimpered, nodding as best as he could, the taste of blood fresh on his tongue.
He shivered in his seat as Raven Spawn finally spoke, his voice smooth but sharp like a blade.
"Smole... I'll ask you one last ti. Who did you tell about the Rumbling? And what exactly did you say?"
Tears stread freely from Smole's eyes now, desperation leaking from every word.
"Boss… please… I didn't tell anybody anything—I swear! I swear I didn't—"
Before he could finish, a thin glowing line traced itself across his neck.
Ti seed to stop as his eyes widened in shock. Then, with a sickening wet thud, his head slid off his shoulders and dropped to the floor, lifeless eyes still wide with horror.
In Raven Spawn's hand was a long, obsidian-black feather, slick with fresh blood.
It evaporated into the air like smoke as he casually let it go.
"I told you," Raven murmured, calm as ever. "I was asking for the last ti."
Without another glance, he turned and exited the room, Crash falling into step beside him.
Outside the door stood a masked mber of Unkindness. Raven paused only briefly to deliver an order.
"Clean it up."
The door shut again. As Raven and Crash made their way through the concrete halls of the hideout, Raven's tone shifted from a cold executioner to a pragmatic strategist.
"We don't know what Smole might've leaked," he said. "To prevent any accidents... we initiate the Rumbling imdiately."
Crash gave a simple nod. "Understood."
They disappeared down the corridor, their silhouettes swallowed by shadows.
Back in the execution room, the Unkindness mber who had been assigned to clean the ss knelt beside the corpse, expression hard to read under the mask.
But behind the disguise, his thoughts were racing.
'That was close... too damn close.'
This was no ordinary mber.
This was Mystique—Agent 777's undercover operative.
A Level 3 hero whose ability, {Form shift}, allowed him to take the physical form of anyone he touched.
Before infiltrating the organization, they had captured a low-ranking thug after a lengthy investigation. They extracted everything the man knew, then eliminated him while Mystique took his form and place.
It had seed foolproof. The real mber was a nobody. Soone no one would notice—until recently. Mystique hadn't anticipated the attention his quiet probing would attract. He glanced down at Smole's severed head and sighed.
Good thing I planted evidence in his room, he thought grimly. He took the fall perfectly.
He resud cleaning the blood off the floor, more careful now than ever.
His cover was still intact—for now. But one wrong move, one wrong step… and he'd end up just like Smole.
I need to be more careful, he reminded himself. Or I'll jeopardize the entire mission.
****
Raven Spawn sat alone in his office, shrouded in the cold silence that ca before chaos. The dim lighting barely illuminated the tallic walls, and the only sound was the beeping of a nearby digital clock.
He sat with his hands clasped in front of him, eyes closed, mind sharpening like a blade. The Rumbling was about to begin—and once it did, the world would never be the sa.
But as the mont neared, a mory clawed its way back to the surface.
A ti when he wasn't Raven Spawn.
A ti when he was Reignfall—a beloved hero.
He had once stood on the golden pedestal of the public's admiration, saving lives, slaying dread beasts, and stopping villains with grace and power.
Children wore masks shaped like his helm. Crowds would cheer his na. Hope followed in his shadow.
Then ca that day.
The Duskline District ergency beacon had gone off—a greater dread beast was on a rampage.
Reignfall was the closest on patrol. Without hesitation, he responded, soaring over the smog-ridden skyline toward the chaos.
The fight was brutal.
The dread beast was stronger than the intel had suggested—its hide thick, its blows savage. As Reignfall clashed with the monstrosity, civilians looked on from behind barricades, cheering as he pushed the creature back.
His blade cracked bone, his powers scorched the air—and just when he was about to finish it—
It went berserk.
In its final death throes, the beast released a devastating shockwave, smashing through barriers, buildings, and bone. Five civilians died in the blast.
A tragic loss.
But what truly shattered everything was one na.
Rurik Alton.
A young man caught in the chaos. Dead in the rubble. Son of High Marshal Alton—a senior figure within the Hero Association.
Reignfall didn't need to be told. He knew.
The trial ca almost instantly. Faster than any hero had ever been processed before.
Negligence in civilian safety. Gross misconduct during combat. Insubordination by engaging without requesting back-up. Voluntary manslaughter.
They built the charges like a monunt to bla.
The verdict: Expelled from the Hero Association.
The news hit the airwaves like wildfire. The headlines branded him a monster in disguise. The civilians whose lives he once saved turned their backs on him.
The heroes he fought beside? They looked away. And the Hero Association—the very institution he had bled for—abandoned him without a second thought.
It wasn't the deaths that broke him.
It was the injustice.
Casualties occurred in hero battles every day. Others lost control. Others made mistakes. But none of them faced trials.
None were expelled.
None were ruined.
So what made that one man's son so special?
Raven Spawn's eyes opened, cold and clear as steel.
This world is broken.
Its system is blind, corrupt, and steeped in gold.
And I will burn it all down—starting with Duskline.
He stood from his chair, his dark feathered mantle swaying like the wings of death. The door behind him opened without a knock.
Lined up were the mbers of Unkindness, eyes sharp, resolve unshakable. They were ready.
Without a word, Raven Spawn led them out of the office and into the corridor.
They walked with purpose, heading toward the launch bay where the Colossus awaited—the doomsday device that would begin the Rumbling.
There would be no turning back.
No room for rcy.
Among the ranks, unnoticed, was Mystique, the Level 3 Hero in deep cover. His features masked under borrowed flesh, his expression unreadable. He walked with the others his body calm and his mind racing.
'Once I see the Colossus,' he thought, 'I'll signal Agent 777 and we'll take Raven Spawn down for good.'
But even Mystique could feel it in the air.
This wasn't just a mission anymore.
This was war.
****
Ethan crouched silently on the edge of a rusted rooftop. Below him, in the dimly lit alley, a lone civilian moved—oblivious to the shadow of doom looming over Duskline District.
The man walked with tired steps, probably heading ho after a long shift, humming quietly to himself.
He didn't know.
None of them did.
Ethan's eyes narrowed as Agent 777's warning echoed in his mind:
"Duskline District borders the Scarhallow Expanse. If the barrier falls… the dread beasts will pour in. And the casualties will be worse than Ash veil district. Much worse."
He clenched his fists.
Ash veil district...
The video of that disaster still haunted him. Screams.
Smoke. Blood on shattered pavent. And now, this district—full of lives just trying to make it through the day—was standing on the edge of the sa abyss.
The Hero Association had already begun recalling its heroes from missions across the regions.
But Ethan knew the truth.
They would be too late. By the ti reinforcents arrived, Duskline would be in ruins, and the dread beasts would have already had their feast, leaving the heroes to deal only with the aftermath.
'That's why we have to succeed,' he thought, 'no matter the cost.'
Suddenly, his communicator buzzed.
He tapped it, and the clear voice of Agent 777 ca through, tense and low:
"We have received the location, Outpost Theta-9. No delays."
Click. The line went dead.
Ethan looked down at the civilian one last ti—this man who knew nothing of the horrors that stalked the night.
A father, a brother, maybe just a tired worker.
The thought hit Ethan like a blade to the heart.
"I have to protect this."
His eyes burned with resolve.
With a burst of raw power, Ethan launched from the rooftop, a blur of motion vanishing into the skyline.
The wind scread past him as he leapt from building to building, heart pounding like war drums.
A war was coming.
And Ethan didn't intend lose.
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A/N I will release 3 extra chapters if I get 120 power stones or 50 Golden tickets.
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