Aftermath

Good morning, New York. Yesterday, the world witnessed something straight out of science fiction—an actual alien invasion. The attackers, identified as the Chitauri, poured through a portal that opened above Stark Tower, leaving chaos and destruction in their wake.

"From what we know, this disaster began when an attack was carried out on a previously unknown global organization—S.H.I.E.L.D. Sources suggest that their mission involves handling paranormal threats, individuals with extraordinary abilities, and, apparently, extraterrestrial forces. But when they fell, it seemed like Earth had no defense left.

"Thankfully, that wasn't the case. Over the past few years, an increasing number of vigilantes have surfaced, and yesterday, many of them took to the streets to fight against the Chitauri. Because of their efforts, casualties—while tragic—were significantly lower than what they could have been in an event of this scale.

"Among these fighters, a few stood out the most. A group of six individuals, reportedly assembled by S.H.I.E.L.D., were seen battling on the front lines. They are now being called 'The Avengers.'

"Their members include two elite agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., the genius billionaire Tony Stark, who fought as the armored Iron Man, and—perhaps the most shocking of all—the raging monster known as the Hulk. Then there's the so-called Norse god of thunder, Thor. S.H.I.E.L.D. officials referred to him as the actual Thor from mythology, though whether that's a literal truth or just a codename remains to be seen. And finally, there's Captain America—the legendary hero of World War II. Reports confirm that he had been frozen in ice for seventy years, only recently discovered and revived, his super-soldier physiology allowing him to survive the impossible.

"But perhaps the biggest surprise of the battle was Windwalker. While there has been no official confirmation of whether he is part of the Avengers, he was seen fighting alongside three of them. However, what truly set him apart was his stand against an overwhelming wave of Chitauri forces. In a battle caught on camera, he defended a store full of innocent civilians for nearly an hour, holding back the alien attackers alone.

"Now, we have exclusive footage of that fight, filmed by one of the people inside the store. Take a look."

The screen flickered, shifting to a grainy but clear video of Luke's battle.

On the couch, Luke and Henry sat watching the video

Luke sat on the couch, watching the news replay footage of the battle. Seeing himself on screen, fighting wave after wave of Chitauri, he couldn't help but think back to that moment. He hadn't been angry at the aliens—he had been furious at himself. Furious for treating the whole thing like some kind of action movie, for not realizing the true weight of the situation until Reality slapped him in the face.

But dwelling on it wouldn't change anything. He had learned his lesson.

"Wow," Henry said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I still can't believe you actually did all that. You looked like a straight-up action hero."

Luke turned to look at him, a small grin forming. "No I am an action hero."

He had promised himself to take disasters more seriously from now on. But at the same time, he couldn't let them consume his entire life. These kinds of events were going to keep happening so if he carried the weight of each one with him forever, he'd never be able to breathe. He needed to find balance.

The video on screen finally ended, and before Luke could even blink, Henry turned to him, eyes wide with excitement.

"Okay, now you have to explain this to me," Henry said, practically bouncing in his seat. "How the hell did you suddenly get so strong? In that footage, you were using wind fists constantly, and your wind blasts were actually hurting those aliens. I remember when they couldn't even knock out a normal person before! What happened?!"

Luke smirked. "Well, to make it simple—remember how I can generate wind from my body?"

Henry nodded.

"Yeah, so, turns out my genius brain didn't think of just creating wind directly instead of pulling it from my surroundings. But when I started doing that, my attacks got way stronger, even though I was using the same amount of wind as before. No clue why, but the wind I create myself packs way more punch."

Henry's eyes widened. "Wait, so you basically just… produce stronger wind?"

"Pretty much."

Henry was still processing that when another thought hit him. "Okay, then what about that wind slash thing? The one that—y'know—cut those aliens clean in half."

Luke scratched the back of his head. "Yeah… that was a total accident. If I practice, I should be able to do it again, but for now, I have no idea how to control it."

Henry took a second to absorb that information before nodding. "Alright, fair enough. But I've got one last question."

He pointed at the screen. "At the end of the fight, you just slammed all those aliens out of the air with your wind—without even moving. If you can do that, then why do you always punch or wave your arms to send out wind attacks?"

Luke blinked. "Huh." He scratched his head again, frowning as he thought about it. "I don't really know, but… for some reason, when I move—punch, kick, whatever—it's easier to control the wind and put more power behind it."

Henry tilted his head, considering that answer. "Weird."

Luke nodded. "Yeah."

The news broadcast continued, showing various clips and interviews of people who had witnessed the battle firsthand.

"You could see how incredible Windwalker's performance was," the reporter said.

The screen cut to a young boy, maybe seven or eight years old, excitedly jumping around and reenacting Luke's moves from the fight. "Windwalker is the best! He was like—BAM! WHOOSH! POW!" The kid swung his arms dramatically, mimicking the blasts of wind Luke had used. His parents, standing beside him, chuckled at his enthusiasm.

The camera then switched to a teenager around Luke's age, grinning excitedly. "I swear, I'm gonna be Windwalker's number one fan from now on! I'll even make a fan club website—he's a real superhero!" His excitement was practically overflowing.

The broadcast returned to the reporter, who smiled slightly. "That last comment isn't unique. Many people have been calling various vigilantes 'superheroes' for a while now, but according to several media outlets, this moment marks the true beginning of the superhero era."

Luke, sitting on the couch, grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. He stretched his arms, letting out a small yawn. "Hah… I guess the superhero era has officially started." His tone was casual, almost indifferent.

Henry, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. His eyes practically sparkled with excitement. "The superhero era… How amazing is that?!" He leaned forward, grinning from ear to ear.

Luke glanced at him and, without warning, lightly smacked the back of Henry's head.

"Ow!" Henry rubbed his head, pouting. "What the hell was that for?"

Luke crossed his arms. "I think we've got bigger problems to worry about."

"Like what?"

"Like our game—Hollow Knight—which we're about to release next week. This whole mess might mess with our sales."

Henry blinked, his excitement faltering slightly. "Oh… yeah, I guess that is something to think about."

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. The two of them had worked nonstop on the game for a month, fine-tuning everything. The story, the map, the gameplay—every part of it was ready. Now, all that was left was seeing if people would actually buy it.

Henry, noticing Luke's expression, clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Don't stress too much, man. I already checked Kickstarter, news sites, and gaming forums—things are calming down, and people are still hyped for indie games. None of this should mess with our sales."

Luke exhaled through his nose, still unsure. "I can't help but worry. I already dropped out of school to dedicate my time to being Windwalker and working on Hollow Knight. It's not that I think the game will fail, but… how successful it is will affect my future. A lot."

Henry's expression softened. "Hey, I get it, man. But trust me, it'll be fine. This is just the beginning. We'll—"

RING RING.

Henry's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, checking the caller ID. "Ah, sorry, man. I gotta take this."

Luke shrugged. "It's fine."

"I have to head home anyway." Henry stood up, giving Luke a quick nod before heading for the door. "Catch you later!"

Luke watched him leave, chuckling slightly to himself. A small part of him felt a little jealous—Henry still had a mom to go home to. He pushed the thought aside quickly, shaking his head. Dwelling on it wouldn't change anything.

Feeling a wave of exhaustion hit him, he decided to head to his room to rest for a bit. But just as he reached his bedroom door—

Knock, knock.

Luke frowned. Who could that be?

He turned around, walking toward the front door. "Henry, did you forget something—?"

As he opened the door, the words froze in his throat.

Standing outside was not Henry.

It was a tall, imposing man dressed in a black trench coat. An eyepatch covered his left eye, a deep scar running across his face. His presence alone gave off an authoritative aura, like someone who wasn't used to being ignored.

Luke narrowed his eyes slightly.

"…Who the hell is this guy?"