The classroom buzzed louder than usual.
Not because of exams. Not because of gossip.
But because of heroes.
"They saved, like, three districts yesterday!"
"I saw Revving Storm cut a robot in HALF!"
"7th Blade Bearer's armor design is so clean though."
Haruto kept his head down, pretending to copy notes. Kenta had his chin in his hand, trying very hard not to grin like an idiot.
"Bro," Kenta muttered under his breath, "we're literally sitting in our own fan club."
"Please don't say that out loud," Haruto whispered back. "I'd like to survive high school."
From across the room, someone glanced their way.
Then another.
Then the whispers shifted tone.
Not admiration.
Targeting.
Recess came fast.
And so did the footsteps behind them.
"Well well," one of the bullies said, blocking their path near the vending machines. "Look who's here. The quiet weirdos."
Kenta rolled his shoulders but didn't raise his voice. "We're just trying to get drinks."
"Yeah? Try harder."
One shoved Haruto's shoulder. Another flicked Kenta's forehead.
Normally, Kenta would've already had a chainsaw revving.
But belts were on cooldown.
And Haruto shook his head slightly.
Not here.
Not for this.
They endured it. Silent. Tense.
Eventually the bell rang and the bullies wandered off, bored.
Kenta exhaled sharply. "One day…"
"I know," Haruto said quietly.
After school, the sky was clear. Calm. Almost unfairly peaceful.
Starbucks was open again, lights warm, the smell of coffee floating into the street.
They sat by the window with iced drinks, bags at their feet.
"No monsters. No portals. No evil CEOs," Kenta said, leaning back. "Kinda nice."
Haruto nodded. "Feels… normal."
Kenta lifted his cup. "To a day without combat."
Haruto clinked his straw against it. "I'll drink to—"
The sky tore open.
Not metaphorically.
Reality itself split with a deep, glass-shattering roar.
A jagged rift burned across the clouds, purple lightning crawling along its edges.
Everyone inside the café froze.
Phones came out.
Someone screamed.
Black shapes dropped from the rift like meteors.
They hit the streets with bone-rattling force.
Tall. Silver.
Humanoid machines with glowing red cores and blade-like arms.
One turned its head with a sharp mechanical click.
Its eye flared.
A car beside it split in half.
"Sentinels…" Haruto breathed.
Kenta was already standing.
Their belts vibrated at the same time.
INCOMING THREAT — GLOBAL CLASS
Elyra's voice blasted through their earpieces, strained and urgent.
"Haruto! Kenta! Respond! Those aren't random spawns — they're coordinated! Rift signature matches off-world tech! MOVE!"
Outside, a Sentinel fired a beam that carved through the road, sending civilians running in every direction.
Kenta cracked his knuckles.
"Well," he said, adrenaline burning away the last bit of exhaustion…
"…so much for a day off."
Haruto stood beside him, eyes sharp now.
"Let's go."
By the time they reached the base, the adrenaline had already curdled into something else.
Dread.
The hangar doors slammed shut behind them as Elyra rushed over, holographic panels flickering around her.
"I lost visual for twelve seconds," she said, voice tight. "Twelve. That's all it took."
Mr. Yoshida turned on the central monitor without a word.
Every screen in the lab lit up at once.
Live news feeds. Social media clips. Drone footage.
Tokyo's skyline… intact.
The rift in the sky… gone.
The Sentinels…
Gone.
Footage rolled of sleek white combat drones — SOL-series units — descending in perfect formation. Precision lasers. Clean takedowns. No collateral damage.
Crowds cheering.
Reporters shouting over each other.
"—Nebula Industries once again responding before local defense forces could mobilize—"
"—CEO Dr. Verax claims their AI predicted the anomaly three minutes before it occurred—"
"—citizens praising the SOL units as the future of global safety—"
A clip played of Verax himself, coat pristine, smiling gently for the cameras.
"We simply wish to protect humanity," he said smoothly. "No drama. No destruction. Just results."
The screen cut to civilians clapping.
Someone held a sign that read:
ROBOTS DON'T FAIL
Kenta stared, jaw tight. "That was too fast."
"Too clean," Saskia added.
Miles hugged his arms. "The Sentinels barely did anything… I saw one for like ten seconds before the drones swarmed."
Haruto stepped closer to the screen, eyes narrowing. "They were already in the air."
Elyra zoomed in on one frame. "Exactly. Pre-deployed at high altitude before the rift fully stabilized."
Lilith crossed her arms. "Meaning they knew."
Silence settled heavy in the lab.
Mr. Yoshida folded his hands behind his back, watching Verax shake hands with a rescued civilian.
"It feels staged," Haruto said quietly.
"Because it is," Elyra replied.
Kenta slammed a fist into a workbench. "They dropped the threat so they could 'save' everyone!"
Miles looked sick. "They let people get scared on purpose…"
"And if we had arrived first," Saskia said slowly, "we would've looked like we were interfering."
On-screen, a commentator laughed lightly. "At this rate, do we even need the Masked Chargers anymore?"
The lab felt colder.
Mr. Yoshida muted the broadcast.
For a moment, he didn't speak.
Then—
"We're done reacting."
Everyone looked at him.
His glasses caught the glow of the monitors.
"They want the world to believe they are humanity's only shield," he continued. "Fine."
He turned to face them fully.
"Then we find out what they're hiding behind that shield."
Kenta's eyes lit with fire. "You mean—"
"Yes," Mr. Yoshida said.
"Infiltration."
Elyra grinned slowly. "Finally."
Lilith adjusted her hat. "Took you long enough."
Miles swallowed but nodded. "I'm in."
Saskia stepped forward. "Just tell us where."
Haruto looked at the frozen image of Verax on the screen — smiling, calm, beloved.
A man the world trusted.
A man who might be manufacturing disasters.
"…We go to their base," Haruto said quietly.
Mr. Yoshida gave a single nod.
"Then prepare yourselves."
The screen behind him switched to a 3D model of a massive coastal facility surrounded by ocean and anti-air defenses.
"Nebula Industries Headquarters."
To be continued…