Vanta glared at Skyflare, his voice strained with pain and defiance. "Aren't you supposed to be a hero? Someone who saves people? Then why—why are you doing this?"
Skyflare smirked, his golden eyes glinting with disdain. "Oh, I do save people. Just not worthless trash like you."
Vanta's fists clenched, his vision burning red. So that was the truth. Heroes only saved those who mattered—those with power, influence, or status. The rest? Expendable.
Before he could retort, Skyflare unleashed a searing beam of fire. The other heroes—once Vanta's idols—joined the assault, their combined abilities lighting the corridor in a deadly spectacle. Vanta barely twisted away, the heat singeing his skin as he stumbled toward the lift.
Almost there—!
A shadow blurred in front of him.
CRACK!
A fist slammed into his gut, sending him crashing to his knees. Pain exploded through his ribs, bile rising in his throat as he gasped for air. Above him, a voice dripped with mockery.
"Did you really think you could run? Just because you awakened your Syndicate doesn't make you one of us."
Vanta forced his head up—and froze.
No… It can't be.
The man standing over him was Vortex, the legendary hero who had once single-handedly saved an entire nation.
"Y-You…" Vanta choked out, blood staining his teeth. "You're a hero… Why…?"
Vortex's expression darkened. "Pathetic."
His fist connected with Vanta's face—and the world went black.
Skyflare skidded to a stop, his breath ragged. When he saw Vortex, his blood ran cold.
"B-Brother! We had him—!"
Vortex turned, his eyes burning with fury. Without a word, he punched Skyflare with enough force to send him crashing through the wall.
"You incompetent fool," Vortex snarled. "If I hadn't intervened, he would've escaped."
Skyflare coughed up blood, his voice trembling. "S-Sorry…"
The other heroes arrived, freezing under Vortex's glare. He gestured to Vanta's unconscious body.
"Throw him in the pit with the other failures."
With a swirl of blue smoke, Vortex vanished.
Skyflare wiped his mouth, his fear twisting into rage as he barked at the others. "What are you standing around for? MOVE!"
The cell door groaned open, revealing a cavern of despair. Dozens of prisoners—some chained, others broken—lifted their heads as the heroes dragged Vanta inside.
A whisper cut through the darkness.
"Another fool who tried to be a hero…"
The door slammed shut. Silence.
Then—
"Ugh…"
Vanta groaned, clutching his throbbing skull. His vision swam as he took in the damp, cracked walls, the skeletal figures around him. He tried to stand—
A hand gripped his shoulder.
"Don't."
Vanta turned to see a gaunt man with hollow eyes. "They'll kill you if you resist."
"Then what? We just wait to die?" Vanta snapped.
A woman—Lira—leaned in, her voice a whisper. "Not die. Escape."
She pointed to the far corner, where a fully chained figure lay motionless.
"When he wakes up," Lira murmured, a fierce grin spreading, "even the heroes won't be able to stop us."
Vanta studied the unconscious figure, his chains thicker than the others—reinforced, as if they feared even his dormant strength. He turned to Lira, voice low.
"Who is he? Why is he chained like that?"
Lira smirked, her eyes glinting with something like triumph. "That's the strongest Syndicate user to ever exist. His power faded for a while, so they locked him up like an animal." She leaned closer, her whisper sharp with promise. "But they don't know—it's only temporary. When his strength returns…"
Vanta's gaze flicked back to the prisoner. "…He'll break out."
"No," Lira corrected, grinning. "He'll break everything."
Vanta fell silent, his mind racing. If what she said was true, then this prison—these so-called heroes—were all living on borrowed time.
And when that man woke up?
Hell would follow.