(CNN) BREAKING NEWS: Explosion Destroys Carlin Night Show Studio. Casualties Unknown.
"This just in: The Carlin Broadcasting Tower in Manhattan has been completely leveled in what authorities are calling a 'catastrophic incident.' Witnesses reported intense tremors moments before a massive explosion engulfed the live studio during a broadcast of The Carlin Night Show..."
"There is no confirmation yet on the fate of the individuals present during the explosion, including noted metahumanologist Dr. Ryan Campbell, talk show host Kaitlyn Carlin, and the world's number one superhero, Firepower, who was live on air when the feed was cut."
---
Tanaka sat in stunned silence.
The television screen flickered between shaky live footage, emergency bulletins, and scrolling tickers of panic.
"It's a mess," he muttered.
His father didn't reply at first. Just stared.
"All those people," he said at last, his voice low. "Probably gone."
Tanaka's brow furrowed. "Firepower… he couldn't have..."
He stopped mid-sentence.
A sudden surge of noise on the screen, gasps, screams, rising voices.
"There! Up there!"
"Is that... is that Firepower?"
"Antony, are you getting this? Zoom in!"
The camera jerked upward, catching a sliver of the sky between broken buildings and drifting ash.
Then, there he was.
A dark silhouette, descending through the smoke-choked night like a phoenix through fire.
Firepower.
His black-and-gold armor shimmered with heat, cracked in places, glowing faintly red like molten steel.
And in his arms, limp but breathing, was Kaitlyn Carlin.
He touched down like a meteor slowed by mercy, landing amidst the wreckage as sirens wailed in the distance.
Someone off-camera let out a choked sob. Another whispered, "He's alive..."
And Tanaka?
He leaned forward, eyes locked.
Not in relief.
But in awe.
"Dr. Campbell," his father said quietly, "...he didn't make it."
Tanaka didn't respond right away.
He knew exactly what his father was getting at.
Firepower had emerged from the flames unscathed… carrying only Kaitlyn Carlin.
"Campbell and Kaitlyn were the only two people near Firepower when the explosion went off," his father added, voice low. "And yet.....only one came out alive."
"I know, Dad," Tanaka said, cutting him off. His voice was calm, but his mind wasn't.
Back on the screen, the reporter's voice broke through the static, breathless and urgent.
"We're live at the site of the explosion, witnessing what can only be described as a miracle. Firepower, alive and seemingly unharmed.....has just emerged from the rubble carrying Kaitlyn Carlin, the host of the Carlin Night Show.
The fate of others present at the time, including Dr. Ryan Campbell, remains unknown. But tonight, the world is watching as a symbol of strength rises from the ashes once again."
Tanaka stared at the screen.
But all he could hear were his father's earlier words echoing in his head:
"Your idol might just be two-faced."
And now, for the first time…
Tanaka wasn't sure if he was wrong.
The street was chaos.
Ambulances screamed. Police cars formed a perimeter. Flashing red and blue lights painted the rubble-strewn pavement. Smoke still curled from the crater where the Carlin Broadcasting Tower once stood.
And in the middle of it all, Firepower stood, Kaitlyn Carlin unconscious in his arms, his armor cracked and scorched, glowing faintly in the night.
Cameras flashed wildly. Reporters swarmed forward, shouting over one another.
"Firepower! Is Kaitlyn Carlin alive?"
"What caused the explosion?"
"Was this a terrorist attack?"
"Did you see Dr. Campbell...did he make it out?"
"Is this linked to the allegations he made on-air?"
"Are the superhero wars real?"
Firepower didn't flinch.
His glowing eyes swept over the crowd, calm, unreadable, godlike.
"I have no comment at this time," he said, his voice steady, low, but amplified by the dozens of microphones shoved toward his face.
"Is this the beginning of a war between superhero agencies?" someone yelled.
He paused.
Then gave the faintest of smirks.
"If it is… it won't be a long one."
More flashes. More shouting. The media exploded with noise.
Paramedics rushed to take Kaitlyn from his arms. He handed her over gently, like she weighed nothing. A medic gave a panicked nod, confirming her vitals. She was alive.
Firepower turned to walk away.
But he stopped after a few steps. Turned back. And faced the cameras.
"We've been protecting this world for decades. Whatever happened tonight...we'll find out who's behind it."
A beat.
"And when we do… they'll wish they hadn't survived."
Then he vanished into the smoke.
***********************************************
Tanaka lay in his small, stuffy room, sweat beading on his forehead as the summer heat clung to the air like a second skin. The fan barely turned. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking.
This had been his year.
He'd been named South Africa's Hero of the Year, and awarded Africa's Rising Superhero title - an honor reserved for the continent's most promising young metas.
Sun Magazine had called him "a force of nature with the potential to become not just Africa's best, but one of the greatest superheroes the world has ever seen."
People knew him as The Blacksmith.
He'd chosen the alias not because he was Black, but because he thought the name would be funny and hard to forget. When his father protested, Tanaka would usually wave him off with a smirk and call it "creative marketing."
His power was simple.
Super strength. And flight.
No lasers. No teleportation. No fancy elemental manipulation.
But what set him apart, what made people watch, were the two steel-forged swords he carried strapped to his back. An unusual choice for someone who could crush concrete with his bare hands.
But he used them well.
Rumor had it he could slice through titanium like paper.
Now, as the year wound to a close, the season of recruitment began. The time when top-tier superhero agencies scouted and signed the best untethered heroes around the globe.
He was on their radar.
He was linked with a move to America.
Horizon Heroes.
The most powerful and prestigious superhero organization in the world.
They had already reached out to his agent. An official offer was on the table: $2.4 million, not to Tanaka directly, but as a buyout to his current agency, Mzansi Heroes Co.
It was happening.
Everything he'd dreamed about, money, power, recognition, girls, legacy, was finally within reach.
And yet...
He couldn't stop thinking about Firepower.
About the explosion.
About the face he'd seen on screen... so calm.
Like he knew it was coming.
His phone rang.
[Kurt Rauch]
Tanaka stared at the screen for a second, heart thumping.
Kurt was his manager, his loudmouthed, chain-smoking, Afrikaans-accented bulldog of a manager. The man who'd been negotiating the biggest deal of Tanaka's life: a contract with Horizon Heroes.
Given what had just happened in Manhattan, it could only mean one of two things, either terrible timing or perfect timing.
He answered.
"Kurt?"
"Hey, buddy... how you holding up?" came the familiar voice, thick with his usual Afrikaans lilt. In the background, Tanaka could hear muffled voices, maybe a bar, maybe his office. With Kurt, you never knew.
"I don't know if I should be happy or sad," Tanaka muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
There was a pause.
"You saw the news then," Kurt finally said, voice dropping slightly.
"Yeah. It was... bananas, man. A whole damn building just... gone." He exhaled. "Live. On-air. I mean, what the hell?"
Another pause.
Kurt was quiet for a bit longer than usual. Tanaka knew what he was thinking.
Would this affect the deal? Would Tanaka back out? Was Firepower's name now poison?
Tanaka, on the other hand, was panicking for a different reason.
What if Horizon pulled out?
There were other rising stars, guys with better stats, better press, cleaner backgrounds. Superheroes with more polish, higher ratings.
"What are you thinking?" Kurt asked.
"I'm thinking," Tanaka said carefully, "that I really hope this mess doesn't screw up my shot at America."
Kurt let out a breath, something between a laugh and a groan. "Hell, I thought you were about to tell me you're pulling out."
"What? No. Not at all." Tanaka sat up straighter. "Though... my old man's losing it. He thinks Firepower's behind the explosion."
Kurt snorted. "He's not the only one. People are already spinning conspiracy threads like spider silk. 'Superhero wars are real.' 'Firepower killed Campbell.' Same stuff they always say."
"Yeah, but this time... I don't know. It felt off."
"Off?" Kurt repeated.
Tanaka hesitated. "The way he looked... when it happened. It was like he was waiting for it."
Kurt was silent for a beat. Then: "Tanaka, listen to me."
"I'm listening."
"This is your shot. Whatever the hell's going on with Firepower, the agencies, the politics... it's bigger than you. But your career? Your moment? That's right now."
Tanaka nodded to himself.
"I hear you."
"Good," Kurt said. Then his tone shifted. "Now... ready for the real reason I called?"
Tanaka blinked. "Wait, what?"
"Your rating. It's jumped."
Tanaka sat up straight. "What?"
"You're sitting at 51.0, my boy."
"Sixty....what?!"
"Sixty-five. They officially bumped you this morning. Some algorithm update. Social approval spike. I dunno. But it's locked in."
Tanaka let out a whoop and punched the air. "Yes!"
Kurt laughed. "Calm down, calm down. Don't sprain anything. You haven't even heard the best part yet."
Tanaka grinned. "Hit me."
"The Horizon Heroes deal went through. Final approval. Done deal. You're going for medical clearance in two weeks. After that, you're on a flight to the States."
Tanaka froze.
"You serious?"
"As a goddamn heart attack. You are now officially on their roster. Welcome to the big leagues, kid."
Tanaka's mind raced. America. Horizon. Firepower. Media deals. International patrols. That top 10 ranking he'd dreamed of for years, it didn't seem so far anymore.
Kurt chuckled again. "We, my boy... are going to America."
Tanaka exhaled. The weight of years of training, sacrifice, ambition, all of it poured through him.
"Let's go," he whispered, barely able to contain the grin.