Moments before the chaos erupted across the lower sectors, high above the neon-lit slums, three figures dropped silently onto the roof of a dilapidated tenement building.
Phoenix, Silver Hawk, and Falcon Man crouched on the edge, looking down at the squalor below with matching sneers.
"Only the lower districts and cities have these wonderful little playgrounds," Phoenix chuckled smoothly, adjusting his lapels and gesturing with a casual flick of his hand toward the seedy, neon-lit strip of the Red-Light District. "No one believes a single word these low-class locals say anyway. Out here, we can do whatever we bloody well please."
Silver Hawk stretched his wings, a self-satisfied grin spreading across his face, though a nervous edge flickered in his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm tired of always smiling for the cameras back in the high districts the ones that actually matter. I've worked too hard building my reputation to let it slip. Good thing my PR team works overtime to secure my future and keep me at S-rank. If anyone important catches any of us out here, my whole career goes up in smoke."
"Oh, stop waffling on, mate you worry far too much," Phoenix dismissed with an airy wave of his hand, his accent dripping with effortless arrogance. "There's plenty of time before we have to put on the shiny smile and get back to hero work. Don't go stressing over your bloody future and public image tonight. This place is full of nobodies. Live in the moment for once it's a vacation."
"I'm just excited to be here, honestly to be part of the team," Falcon Man chimed in, nervously adjusting his tactical gear as he tried to match their casual swagger.
Without another word, the three corporate heroes descended from the roof, slipping into the shadows of the street and walking straight into a high-end, heavily guarded brothel tucked deep within the district.
Inside, the atmosphere was thick with heavy perfume and dim, pulsating lights. The alien manager behind the front desk instantly spotted them, his multiple eyes lighting up with greed and recognition.
"Ah, Phoenix! My favorite customer!" the manager hissed, bowing quickly. "Welcome, welcome! And I see you've brought new friends with you tonight. Clear out the VIP wing at once clear the area! These are no ordinary guests. These are important people. These are heroes."
Silver Hawk threw an arm around Falcon Man's shoulders, laughing as he looked down at the rookie. "You see this? This is what it means to be a superhero, rookie. You get treated like absolute royalty no matter where you go. High districts, low districts... all of these people are just peasants. They worship the ground we walk on. Any girl here can be yours. Just take them."
Falcon Man swallowed hard, pulling back slightly. "I... I appreciate the offer, guys. I really am glad to be part of the team, but... I have a wife back home. I want my future with her to stay strong."
Silver Hawk scoffed, rolling his eyes with a dismissive wave. "Relax, kid, you're looking at it all wrong. Your future as a top-tier hero is bright; you're building a legacy, and no one here can judge you for enjoying the perks. You're with the boys now, you're with the heroes. No one's going to tell your wife a word. Have some fun. Do you know how many times I've been married? It just comes with the territory."
Laughing, the club manager ushered them forward as a group of women approached. One of the women gently grabbed Falcon Man by the arm, who looked deeply uncomfortable, before each of the heroes was led off into their own separate private rooms.
A couple of blocks away, a young alien woman named Luma hurried along the pavement, clutching a heavy stack of books and her book-bag close to her chest. She glanced up and spotted the local transit bus idling just a block away at the stop.
"Wait, stop!" Luma gasped, quickening her pace into a frantic jog to catch the local transit bus idling just ahead.
Desperate to make it, she hurried forward only for her foot to catch an uneven crack in the concrete. She tripped hard, sending her books and purse scattering across the ground. Stumbling as she looked up from the pavement, she watched helplessly as the bus hissed, its doors snapped shut, and it pulled away from the curb, leaving her behind.
As she scrambled down to pick everything up and reached for her purse, a large, calloused hand snatched it off the pavement right before her fingers could touch it.
Luma gasped, looking up to find herself completely surrounded by three menacing street thugs.
Desperate to get her belongings back, she lunged forward, fighting to grab her purse. "Give that back! Please!" she cried out, struggling against them. Realizing she was entirely trapped, panic completely took over; while actively fighting to pull her wallet back from their grasp, she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Help! Somebody help! I wish a superhero would save me!"
The leader of the thugs grinned, tossing the wallet in his hand as he stepped closer. "No one's gonna help you out here, kid. Your money's ours... unless you want to die for it."
Cowering on the pavement as they loomed over her, tears welling in her eyes, Luma stammered, "Y'all can just have the money! Just leave me alone... please don't hurt me."
The leader chuckled, pocketing the wallet. "Good decision, kid."
As she turned and tried to crawl away from them, willing to leave her belongings behind just to escape, a sharp, piercing screech cut through the evening air the distinct sound of a hawk.
"Give the young lady back her wallet," a smooth, rehearsed voice commanded.
The girl whipped her head around. Standing right behind the thugs was Silver Hawk, a picture-perfect, dazzling hero smile plastered across his face. In a flash of motion, he struck the thugs down with effortless, theatrical flair, knocking them unconscious onto the pavement.
Silver Hawk walked up to her, casually tossing her wallet back into her hands. "It's always good to help a citizen... even one in a lower district."
Before she could even open her mouth to express her gratitude, Silver Hawk held up a sharp finger to her face. "Quiet," he ordered, his warm demeanor instantly dropping into a flat, commanding tone.
He tapped his ear-comm, turning slightly as a tiny, floating recording droid hovered out from behind his shoulder, its red optical lens blinking softly.
"Did you get that?" Silver Hawk asked the machine, his voice dripping with bored detachment. "Did you capture the footage?"
"Yes, sir," a sleek, synthetic voice chirped from the drone. "The rescue sequence has been logged to your official Hero Organization activity file and cross-posted to your social media channels. You've already reached over 6,400 likes and nearly 2,200 comments in the last minute. This engagement is projected to boost your regional popularity score and secure your S-rank standing."
"Good," Silver Hawk muttered. With a quiet hum, the droid folded its metallic wings and zipped back into a concealed compartment on his shoulder armor.
Luma blinked, staring at him in utter confusion. "W-what was that?"
Silver Hawk let out a heavy, theatrical sigh, rolling his eyes as he adjusted his gauntlets. "Just corporate bureaucracy. The Superhero Organization requires us to document every single rescue for PR metrics and ranking logs. Truly exhausting."
"Well... thank you for getting my wallet back," she stammered, holding her books tight against her chest as she turned to quickly walk away down the street.
Before she could take two steps, Silver Hawk lunged forward. His hand clamped around her upper arm with sudden, brutal force. The heavy, sharp stench of alcohol wafted off his breath as he yanked her backward.
"Where do you think you're going?" he snapped, the polished charm entirely gone from his face. "You owe me."
She pulled back in shock, her heart instantly hammering against her ribs. "W-what do you mean?"
"Do you have superhero insurance?" Silver Hawk demanded, leaning in so close she could see the bloodshot veins in his eyes. "I just performed an emergency intervention on your behalf. Do you have coverage?"
"N-no, I don't!" she cried out, desperately trying to twist her arm out of his iron grip. "And I didn't ask you to step in!"
"That's not how the system works," Silver Hawk sneered, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. "We're contracted operatives. When a hero renders aid, services must be rendered in return. That is why civilized citizens carry superhero insurance. You don't have coverage, yet you're the one who stood in the middle of the street screaming for a hero to save your life. You owe a billing fee for my time, so hand over your identification and account credentials."
"Please, I don't have anything" she begged, tears spilling over her cheeks.
"Well, there are other ways to settle a debt," Silver Hawk whispered darkly, reaching out to touch her inappropriately.
"Get off of me! Stop!" Luma screamed, sheer horror overwhelming her terror. Instinct taking over, she raised her free hand and slapped him hard across the cheek.
SNAP!
Silver Hawk's head jerked slightly. His eyes flared with sudden, venomous rage. Without hesitation, he struck her back, shoving her violently onto the cold pavement.
"You ungrateful, lower-district scum!" he snarled, stepping over her as she gasped for air. "I step down into the gutter to rescue you, and you dare put your hands on me?!"
Ignoring her frantic cries, he grabbed the collar of her jacket and began dragging her backward along the asphalt, pulling her directly into the dark, shadowed mouth of the adjacent alleyway.
"Please! Somebody help me!" Luma shrieked, kicking wildly and sobbing into the dark. "Help!"
"You're going to compensate me one way or another," Silver Hawk growled, his voice echoing menacingly against the alley walls. "I don't save low-class trash for free."
High above the street, flying at breakneck speed through the neon glow, Raphael's enhanced hearing picked up the terrifying, unmistakable sound.
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! GET OFF OF ME, PLEASE! STOP!"
Raphael's blood ran cold. Without a second thought, he banked hard in mid-air, diving straight toward the alleyway like a crimson meteor.
Raphael hit the asphalt at the mouth of the alleyway with a bone-rattling crash, kicking up a cloud of dust and shattered gravel. The moment his gaze cut through the darkness, absolute fury seized his heart.
Silver Hawk had his pants unbuckled and pulled down, looming menacingly over the terrified, sobbing girl pinned beneath him on the pavement, his hands forcibly touching her.
Before the corrupt S-rank hero could even react or pull himself away, Raphael bridged the distance in a red-hot blur.
BOOM!
A devastating, fury-fueled right hook caught Silver Hawk squarely across the jaw. The sheer kinetic impact ripped the corporate hero off his feet, launching him violently through the dark corridor of the alley until he smashed hard against the brick wall at the far end, sliding uselessly down into a heap of rotting garbage.
Raphael didn't spare him another glance. He immediately dropped to his knees beside the trembling girl, his expression softening instantly. He quickly grabbed her dropped jacket and handed it back to her with gentle hands. "Hey... hey, look at me. You're safe now. I've got you."
Shaking violently, the girl clutched the jacket around herself, staring up at the silver-and-black suited hero in sheer disbelief.
At the end of the alley, Silver Hawk groaned, pushing himself back to his feet. For a brief moment, his eyes flashed a brilliant gold. Time seemed to distort around his split lip as the torn flesh rapidly reversed itself, restoring it to the state it had been in only seconds earlier. Once the injury was completely undone, the golden glow faded from his eyes, returning them to normal.
Silver Hawk casually reached down, adjusting and pulling up his rumpled tactical pants before glaring through the gloom at Raphael with venomous hatred. His eyes narrowed to sharp slits as he recognized the blazing crimson energy radiating off his opponent.
"You again," Silver Hawk hissed, his voice thick with alcohol and spite. "What the hell do you think you're doing, kid? It's not what it looks like." He continued adjusting his belt, casually buckling it into place. "Did you just assault an S-rank superhero? Rocket Boy was right about you... You're a rule breaker. You're nothing but a nuisance."
"Don't try to act innocent! I saw exactly what you were doing! Why is someone who calls himself a hero doing something like this?!" Raphael demanded, his voice trembling with righteous fury as he stepped firmly between Silver Hawk and Luma. "Look at what you were doing to her! She was terrified!"
He glanced back for a brief second, his tone softening. "Stay behind me. I won't let him touch you again."
Raphael turned back, locking a deadly gaze onto the corrupt S-rank hero. "You call yourself a hero? You're a predator. I'm dragging you to the authorities myself. Turn yourself in this is your only warning."
Silver Hawk threw his head back and barked out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Turn me in? To the police? Kid, I am an S-rank hero, globally recognized and corporate-backed. You're a nobody playing dress-up. And all because your old man was Infinity Man another unlicensed fraud who refused to sign with the Society. You think local law enforcement has any jurisdiction over an S-rank operative? The Superhero Society sits far above any conventional government agency. You're a naive fool, kid... you know absolutely nothing about how real law and power work in this world."
Silver Hawk sneered, pointing a gauntleted finger straight at Raphael's chest. "You're the one breaking the law, kid using unregistered abilities, committing vigilante violence, assaulting an official hero. You look just as delusional as that ridiculous suit. How about this: we can both act like nothing happened, and you can walk away right now without me having to beat you half to death or even kill you, you little punk. Step aside before I wipe you out."
"I'm not going anywhere, and you're not laying a finger on anyone else," Raphael fired back, his red aura surging with intense heat. "I meant what I said. I'm turning you in. I might not be registered with your precious corporate board, but I don't use my power to terrorize innocent people. I don't care who protects you you're answering for this. My father was ten times the hero you'll ever be. He was the number one hero where it actually mattered: in the hearts of the people. He taught me that corporate rankings don't mean a damn thing!"
"Your father was a loser, just like you!" Silver Hawk snarled, his lips curling in contempt. "Number one in the people's hearts? What a pathetic consolation prize. Winners take accolades, money , contracts, and power. That's why there's only one true hero at the top: Superior Man. He's a god among insects, untouchable, allowed to do whatever he pleases. That's real power. That's the future I'm building toward."
Silver Hawk's gaze darted toward Luma, who was trembling against the alley wall. "And you... don't think about running. Once I put this fake trash in the ground, if you utter a single word to anyone, I'll hunt you down and silence you permanently."
"Hey, bully focus on me! I'm your opponent!" Raphael roared, his fury boiling over as he dropped into a low, disciplined Empty Fist stance. His Battle Spirit exploded around him, raging into a blinding, fiery inferno of intense crimson energy. "You're fighting me now!"
Silver Hawk's grin twisted into a malicious smirk. His posture shifted fluidly as he raised his hands, curling his fingers into sharp, talon-like claws.
"Fine by me. You think you're hot stuff just because you managed to beat the Hero Killer? I'll show you why you're nothing but scum and why your victory was nothing more than sheer luck. The other heroes were the ones who weakened him first! I'm going to kill you and that girl. Neither of you is going to ruin my future. Now allow me to demonstrate why the Society put me at S-rank!"
Silver Hawk took a deep, measured breath, the air around his hands beginning to warp and swirl with high-pressure wind currents.
"The Hero Society doesn't just hand out titles they train us in elite martial styles, and I am a master of the Wind Style," Silver Hawk sneered, his eyes glowing with an eerie, temporal light. "I'll make your death mercifully quick... because I can already see the future where you lose."
Silver Hawk's eyes flashed a brilliant, unnatural gold, their pupils shifting into the piercing slit-shapes of a hawk.
"Hawk's Domain: The Silver Future-Sealed Prison!"
Instantly, the space around Raphael began to warp violently, bending and twisting with disorienting force.
"What's going on?!" Raphael gasped, stumbling as the ground beneath his feet rippled with glowing energy.
He looked down, seeing swirling torrents of light wrapping around the pavement. But when he looked up, the alley walls, the brick buildings, and the night sky were completely gone replaced by an infinite, silent expanse of deep space dotted with cold, distant stars.
"Where am I? What did you just do?!" Raphael demanded, bracing himself in the void.
"This is my special ability warping time and space," Silver Hawk sneered, his silhouette shifting across the fractured landscape. "We're still occupying the exact same coordinates back in the real alleyway, but right now, you are trapped inside my pocket dimension domain."
A cold, arrogant laugh rippled through the air, echoing across the empty void.
"I usually reserve this technique for strong opponents. Because of the special ability of this pocket dimension, it slowly drains the energy of my opponents allowing me to kill someone cleanly without causing collateral damage to the city," Silver Hawk sneered, his eyes gleaming with dark malice. "I don't need excessive destruction drawing unwanted attention to us right now. Besides, time moves far slower in here... which means you'll be dead in a matter of seconds, and then I can take my time finishing that girl off. Neither of you is ruining my future. I control the future!"
Outside, back in the dim alleyway, the young woman huddled against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. Right where the two figures had stood, a massive, shimmering dome of crackling energy rose straight from the pavement, towering directly in front of her and sealing off the space within. She couldn't see what was happening inside, but the terrifying, oppressive aura radiating off the barrier told her everything she needed to know.
Inside the pocket dimension, Silver Hawk vanished in a terrifying blur of motion.
He charged straight at Raphael, unleashing a relentless hurricane of high-speed punches and kicks. The kinetic force of his strikes was immense, amplified by his massive wings generating a swirling vortex of wind energy that executed a full 360-degree sweep around Raphael, striking him from every angle as the wind itself bent space.
Raphael threw his arms up to defend, but the sheer pressure sliced through his skin, leaving stinging crimson cuts across his forearms and face. A cold sensation settled in his chest as he felt his body struggling his healing factor was operating much slower than usual, severely suppressed as the domain silently drained his energy.
While Raphael was briefly distracted by Silver Hawk's blinding barrage of rapid fist strikes, Hawk's razor-sharp wing swept violently toward his face. Raphael barely ducked in time, the blade-like feathers grazing his cheek before the tremendous follow-through wind pressure blasted him off his feet and threw him backward.
They clashed back and forth in a brutal storm of kinetic motion. As Silver Hawk pressed the offensive, Raphael gritted his teeth, his fists vibrating with raw kinetic energy. He launched precise counter-strikes, driving his knuckles straight into Hawk's vital pressure points whenever an opening presented itself.
Silver Hawk rushed forward, chasing Raphael backward with relentless fury. His hands curled into sharp, bird-like claws, slashing viciously to rip flesh from bone and shred Raphael's torso. His wings left continuous scratches, their razor-sharp tips barely missing full impact as they stretched and grazed the skin across Raphael's face.
Instead of retreating further, Raphael ducked beneath a wild swipe, spun fluidly on his heel, and countered with a vicious spinning elbow that slammed directly into Silver Hawk's ribs. Followed immediately by a rapid barrage of heavy blows to the face and stomach, the onslaught left Silver Hawk utterly stunned.
Inside Silver Hawk's mind, panic began to spike. What is going on? he thought, his golden eagle eyes flashing furiously. These eyes allow me to see the future movements of my opponents! Depending on how much energy I pump into them, I can look ahead anywhere from a couple of minutes to a couple of hours into the timeline! I should be predicting every single strike... but I can't see a damn thing with him! It's like he doesn't even have a future!
Seizing a sudden opening in the chaotic exchange, Raphael whipped around and delivered a devastating sidekick straight into Silver Hawk's chest. The kinetic impact launched the S-rank hero backward across the void, crashing hard onto the endless, shimmering expanse of the domain floor beneath a sprawling canopy of distant stars.
He lay there completely paralyzed, his body's internal systems entirely shut down by Raphael's vibration-laced pressure strikes. His lungs were collapsed, his internal organs ruptured, and the shattered remnants of his ribs and leg bones were locked in absolute agony beneath his skin.
Raphael stepped forward, his breathing heavy as he towered over him. "It's over," Raphael said firmly. "I'm taking you straight to the authorities for what you did to that girl. Your future as a hero is done."
Silver Hawk struggled against the paralysis, his face twisting in agonizing disbelief. "Shut your mouth!" he screamed, his voice raw. "You're not taking me anywhere! You're not ruining my future! I control the future! My future is bright standing right beside Superior Man! I'm going to be his right hand one day! Damn it, why can't I move?! W-why... is my body taking so long to heal?!" he choked out, his voice strained. "It's taking way longer than usual..."
"Because I shut down your entire system," Raphael replied coldly. "Right down to your spirit."
"You're not ruining my future!" Silver Hawk snarled, his eyes bulging with fury. "Do you have any idea how hard I worked to become an S-rank hero?! To do whatever I want?! No punk like you is going to change that!"
His golden eyes flared with a blinding, supernatural brilliance. Reaching across the timeline of his own existence, Silver Hawk pulled a thread from a future where his body was entirely undamaged, forcing a temporal reset that instantly knitted his torn muscle fibers, restored his spirit, and brought back his mobility.
With a feral roar, Silver Hawk sprang back to his feet. "I see now I can't play games with you!"
His wings flared as a gale-force wind whipped around his fists, warping space itself around his knuckles. "These strikes will tear through your very soul!"
Lunging forward with terrifying speed before Raphael could react, Silver Hawk drove his razor-sharp claws straight through Raphael's stomach.
Raphael gasped, a stream of blood spilling from his lips as he instinctively threw a punch to retaliate. But the moment his fist swung, Silver Hawk vanished into thin air, reappearing safely ten yards away.
Silver Hawk stared at him, his chest heaving. "It seems like you're tougher than you look," he hissed, his eyes narrowing as he watched the crimson wounds on Raphael's abdomen begin to rapidly seal themselves. "Now I can see you have a healing factor, too. I guess I have to kill you quickly then. Let's see if you can heal from your head being chopped off My wings"
The space around them began to violently warp, shake, and fracture.
Silver Hawk's golden eyes burned with absolute desperation. Overcoming the paralysis, he unfurled his razor wings to their absolute limit, the surrounding wind warping violently around his body as the fabric of time and space bent to his will.
"Ultimate Technique: Silver Assault Future Strike!" Silver Hawk snarled and vanished entirely from sight.
Raphael scanned the infinite void, tensing every muscle as he waited for the unseen attack.
A moment later, Silver Hawk flickered back into view, stumbling backward with a look of sheer terror plastered across his face. "Impossible! What kind of magic is this?! What are you?!"
Raphael stood his ground, pressing a hand against his recovering stomach. "I'm not using magic. No more tricks stop vanishing and just surrender already. I don't want to seriously hurt you."
"I have used this ability to execute dozens of targets!" Silver Hawk stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief. "Never not once has there ever been a time where my opponent simply wasn't there! Future Strike allows me to step into the future of this pocket dimension and strike you down while your body is frozen in time and space. When I kill you in the future, that outcome inevitably becomes the present. But when I stepped into the timestream... you weren't there! There was no future version of you at all!"
He clenched his fists, his face twisting with manic rage. "But it doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact that I'm still going to kill you! I will show you why I control my future and yours. My future is bright, and yours is nothing but death! I will step into the future a second, two seconds, a minute, hours if I have to and pinpoint the exact location where you'll be standing. I'll pick the precise coordinate where your body will meet my fist or my wing chopping you in half. You can't defeat me when I'm fighting you in the present and the future at the exact same time!"
Silver Hawk dashed forward, throwing a furious flurry of punches and kicks toward Raphael. They traded blows back and forth, dodging in a blur of speed, until Silver Hawk suddenly vanished into the timestream once more.
From within the temporal rift, Silver Hawk began throwing punches, kicks, and sweeping wing slices directly into empty space strikes aimed through time to manifest as delayed attacks. He flashed back into the present to engage Raphael directly, vanishing and reappearing continuously as he layered strikes into the future.
Suddenly, those unseen punches and kicks tore out of the timestream, materializing in the present and slamming violently into Raphael, sending him hurtling across the void.
More delayed strikes materialized out of thin air, raining down from every conceivable angle. Raphael gritted his teeth, dodging a few by a hair's breadth as he struggled to stabilize his footing against the temporal barrage.
"I have to activate my psycho eyes," Raphael thought frantically, struggling to focus and raise his internal energy so he could see causality. "If I can track the cause and effect of his strikes, I'll have a much better chance at predicting them."
He tried to force his vision to shift, but nothing happened. His eyes remained completely unchanged.
Damn it, he cursed internally. I used so much of my Battle Spirit Energy last night fighting Killian, the Hero Killer... I'm still sore from that fight, and this dimension is already draining what's left of my strength. I can't rely on my psycho eyes right now. And Silver Hawk can just keep healing himself by pulling undamaged states from his timeline. I don't have enough time to hit all those pressure points again before he vanishes into the future. If I'm going to end this, I need to knock him out with one hit one solid, perfect strike that he can't recover from.
Suddenly, right as the reality-warping attacks closed in around him, a sharp memory flashed through Raphael's mind...
The memory pulled him backward, away from the shimmering void and straight into the quiet sanctuary of their spiritual training space. It had been late at night, mere hours after he had finally defeated the Hero Killer. He remembered slipping away to Topanga's dorm, then heading back to his own room to study until exhaustion finally caught up to him and he accidentally fell asleep over his books.
That was when his father's spiritual presence had gently nudged him awake, pulling him straight into training. Even now, he could still feel that phantom exhaustion clinging heavy to his bones as his father's steady voice echoed in his mind, reminding him of what it truly meant to rely on discipline when the body wanted to quit.
"Dad..." Raphael began, his breathing still heavy as he looked up at his father. "Just a little while ago, I fought and defeated the Hero Killer, Killian. But I just don't see how someone so evil could ever claim to stand for justice, or how he was ever a superhero to begin with. It was like his absolute conviction made him stronger. Not once did I see his spirit give out, his mind break, or his resolve falter."
"Well, son," his father replied softly, a gentle warmth in his eyes, "being a hero is complicated. Heroes are just regular beings with enormous responsibilities, and some of them simply cannot live up to them. They can easily fall into corruption, which is why I never joined a superhero organization I saw the rot inside the system early on. It doesn't surprise me that someone swallowed up by that machine lost his way and let his mind twist into delusion. People like that truly believe they're in the right simply because of their title. Their resolve their belief in their own right to rule and conquer is formidable. But your resolve to defend the innocent and bring true justice must be stronger than theirs. I'm proud of you, son. I'm glad you managed to defeat him, because he sounds exceptionally dangerous."
"I pulled off the move," Raphael admitted, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "The Causality pressure points... it felt like the only way I could shut him down. But it drained so much out of me. Landing those exact spots requires absolute focus, and he was relentless. For a brief second, he even made me question why I was fighting. What if I hadn't been able to activate my Psycho Eyes? He could have easily killed me. I can't rely on them every single time. Is there another technique something that doesn't need my Psycho Eyes, but is just as effective?"
His father's expression softened, carrying a deep, ancient weight as he reached out to unroll an old, weathered scroll. "Yes, I do. I've been waiting to teach you this technique, but I never thought you'd be ready for it so soon. It revolves entirely around resolve. You must truly know who you are as a person and who you want to be."
"Teach me, Dad," Raphael urged, his eyes burning with determination. "I already know. I want to be a hero. I want to be just like you."
"Wanting to be just like me and wanting to be a hero... is that enough, son?" his father asked gently. "You told me earlier that Killian made you question why you were fighting. He made you doubt your own resolve. This technique cannot be taught unless your conviction is absolute. You must truly know who you are and what you stand for. So why do you truly want to be a hero, Raphael? Why do you fight? What is your resolve?"
Raphael paused, taking a moment to look deep inside himself. "To protect others," he said firmly. "That's what I believe being a hero really means. That's my resolve. I want to see everyone live in peace, with a smile on their face."
"Then hold tight to that feeling," his father said, a proud smile gracing his face. "Never let it go. Let that be the reason your strikes become inexorable, son. But you must truly believe it with every fiber of your being."
His father nodded, pointing down at the ancient script on the scroll as he explained the core principles:
"Listen closely, Raphael. This is called Splitting the Heavens. It is the absolute highest refinement of a single strike. Any attack you unleash whether a punch, a kick, or a chop must gather your physical strength, spiritual essence, Battle Spirit, mind, and resolve into one completely unified movement. Waste no movement and let no energy escape. Let your telekinetic force expand as wide as your strength and will allow."
His father traced a line across the parchment, his voice calm and absolute. "True strength, resolve, and martial prowess cannot be bound by limits or measured by numbers. To shatter an absolute defense, you must achieve Perfect Alignment. You must tune your Battle Spirit to the fundamental frequency of your target understand its structure, accept the precise force needed to overcome it, and then instantly burst beyond that threshold. Release the strike with flawless precision and timing, ensuring your technique carries zero error or weakness, and that your resolve never wavers."
"If you master it, the strike becomes inexorable impossible to stop, alter, or prevent," his father explained. "A truly mastered strike leaves no gap to exploit and no vulnerability to interrupt; it simply lands, and whatever stands in its way breaks. But true perfection goes far beyond mere shockwaves and heavy impacts. A perfected strike leaves nothing in its wake: no matter, no scattered essence, no lingering kinetic force, and no remaining space resulting in total nonexistence. And legends say that when you weave this into a Causality Strike, you sever the very possibility of restoration, because whenever the cause and the effect become nonexistence, you can never come back."
In the memory, Raphael eagerly raised his fist, channeling his energy to attempt the movement. "Splitting the Heavens!" he shouted, thrusting his fist forward.
The raw output of the unrefined technique blasted forward, leaving massive warps and jagged tears in the fabric of space. Residual red telekinetic energy crackled violently through the air, causing the entire surrounding area to tremble and distort.
Raphael wiped his forehead, looking at the lingering distortion. "How will I know when I've executed it perfectly, Dad?"
His father smiled warmly, watching the surge of power settle around him. "You will know you've perfected it when nothing remains in the path of your strike when time and space themselves are left in complete nonexistence. It looks promising, son, but a technique like this takes a lifetime to master. Still, as your resolve grows, I believe you will reach that level one day. We must train every day, son. The Kingdom is so powerful, and this is only the beginning of our training. The strongest warriors across of our kingdom already know these arts... and we must be ready to protect what we love."
The memory abruptly shattered.
Raphael snapped back to the brutal reality of the pocket dimension, but he was still getting battered. Unseen punches and kicks materialized straight out of the future, slamming into his chest, ribs, and face, driving him backward and forward as he desperately threw up his arms to block.
Silver Hawk's arrogant, echoing laughter bounced off the warping walls of the void.
"I'm going to kill you, kid! You can't last forever! Eventually, you're going to run straight into the future I've already written for you and that's the future of your death! You think you can threaten me? You think you can try to ruin my future! Now... DIE!"
Raphael spat a mouthful of blood onto the shimmering floor, his eyes narrowing as he held his guard.
He's right about one thing, Raphael thought grimly, his mind racing as he threw up his arms to block the onslaught.
If I try to target his pressure points while he keeps vanishing, he'll just dodge or pull a fresh body from his future to undo the damage, Raphael realized, wincing as a wind blade grazed his shoulder. I can't drag this out. It has to be one shot.
Raphael closed his eyes, shutting out the chaotic glare of the void.
He didn't search with visual techniques; instead, he pushed his Tactile Telekinesis straight into the dimensional grid. His force spread outward, feeling every microscopic tremor and ripple in space-time. He didn't need his Psycho Eyes his tactile sense mapped the exact coordinate where the timestream was buckling, pinpointing where Silver Hawk was about to manifest next.
A radiant, incandescent crimson aura flared around Raphael's right fist, swirling with dense telekinetic pressure as he gathered every drop of his remaining strength and Battle Spirit Energy.
Inside his mind, his resolve solidified. He thought of the terrified girl outside the dome stripped of her voice by a man who claimed to represent justice.
I know why I fight, Raphael declared silently. I fight for others. My resolve is built on protecting those who suffer... while you fight only for yourself. That is why your future ends here.
Raphael snapped his eyes open, locking onto a patch of empty space an instant before Silver Hawk flickered into existence.
Silver Hawk materialized right on cue, razor claws bared, only to freeze in utter horror as he realized Raphael was already mid-swing, waiting for him.
"SPLITTING THE HEAVENS: UPPERCUT!" Raphael roared.
He unleashed an upward drive of catastrophic power. The moment his fist connected with Silver Hawk's jaw, a staggering wave of kinetic energy and crimson Spirit Energy erupted, striking every single pressure point across the S-rank hero's body simultaneously.
The sheer force of the blow tore violently through the fabric of the dimension, leaving jagged tears and violent spatial distortions where the raw, pulsing energy of the strike was visibly carved into the air. Massive shockwaves rippled outward, gravitationally realigning and reconfiguring the distant stars and planets across the cosmos of this pocket dimension like shattered glass.
Silver Hawk's eyes rolled straight into the back of his head as the absolute precision of the strike bypassed his future-healing factor entirely. The devastating shockwave traveled instantly through his entire frame his jaw cracked, and every bone down to his toes splintered in uniform destruction. His chest shattered, muscle tendons tore throughout his body, and the impact battered his pressure points and soul simultaneously, completely severing his consciousness.
He let out a choked gasp before rocketing upward into the starry canopy, knocked out cold.
Crack!
The pocket dimension fractured like a broken mirror and vanished into thin air.
In a flash of light, reality snapped back. Raphael stood in the dim, familiar shadows of the alleyway, his chest heaving. A few feet away, the young woman was still huddled against the wall, shaking from the shock of the ordeal.
Raphael exhaled slowly, stepping over to the unconscious S-rank hero. He hoisted Silver Hawk up, slinging the heavy, limp body over his shoulder.
"You're coming with me," Raphael muttered, shifting his grip. "Time to take you straight to the police station."
Before he could turn around to check on the frightened girl, a heavy thud echoed behind him.
Raphael whipped around. Two figures dropped gracefully from the rooftop, landing squarely on the pavement: Phoenix and Falcon Man.
Phoenix narrowed his eyes, a dangerous, arrogant smirk playing on his lips as he blocked the exit. "What do you think you're doing?" Phoenix demanded, his voice dripping with condescension. "And where do you think you're going with him?"