A Hero's Resolve

Annie struggled, kicking wildly as Mr. Corrode tightened his grip on her arm. The villain's sickly gray skin oozed a corrosive substance, and the moment it touched her sleeve, the fabric hissed and disintegrated.

"Quit squirming," he muttered, dragging her toward the alley. "I don't got time for this."

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She reached for her powers, trying to form something—anything—but fear made it hard to focus.

Just as the darkness of the alley threatened to swallow her whole—

A fist crashed into Mr. Corrode's jaw.

The villain reeled backward, his grip on Annie breaking as he stumbled. A second later, Troy stepped between them, his fists clenched tight. His breath was heavy, his stance solid.

Annie stared wide-eyed. "T-Troy?"

Troy didn't look back. His eyes were locked on Mr. Corrode, who wiped his chin and scowled.

"Well, well," the villain sneered, rolling his jaw. "Didn't think a brat like you had a punch like that."

Troy didn't answer. His fists were trembling—not from fear, but from adrenaline. He knew this guy was dangerous, but something inside him wouldn't let him walk away. He couldn't let Annie be taken.

He wasn't helpless anymore.

"Alright, kid," Mr. Corrode said, cracking his knuckles. "You wanna play hero? Let's see how long you last."

Mr. Corrode lunged first, swinging a fist straight for Troy's face.

Troy ducked. The villain's punch smashed into a nearby wall, leaving a sizzling handprint where the bricks melted.

Troy countered with a sharp jab to the ribs, then twisted his body for a second punch. His fist connected—but immediately, pain shot up his knuckles.

Mr. Corrode's body wasn't just covered in acid. He was made of it.

Troy yanked his hand back, gritting his teeth as his skin tingled. I can't punch him bare-handed.

The villain grinned. "That all you got?"

He grabbed Troy's shirt and yanked him forward. The moment their bodies touched, the fabric started dissolving, and the stench of burning cloth filled the air.

"Damn it—!" Troy twisted away just in time to avoid the worst of it, but his shirt was now half-melted, exposing reddened skin beneath.

Mr. Corrode didn't give him time to recover. He raised both hands, a wave of acid forming in his palms.

Troy's instincts kicked in. He summoned his power.

A bubble-like barrier expanded around him, thick and shimmering with soapy fluid. The acid splashed against it—but didn't break through.

The villain's eyes narrowed. "Oh? That's new."

Troy exhaled, his shield holding firm. Alright. I can block his attacks.

He pushed forward, expanding the shield outward to shove Mr. Corrode back. The villain stumbled but regained his footing, snarling.

Troy compressed the shield back into his hands and launched two thick bubbles forward. They shot out like cannonballs, slamming into Mr. Corrode's chest.

The villain coughed, staggering back a few steps.

"Not bad, kid." He wiped his mouth, then grinned wickedly. "Let's see how long you can keep it up."

He rushed forward again, swinging wildly. Troy dodged, blocking with smaller bubble shields to absorb the attacks. But with every hit, his body ached.

He was slowing down.

Mr. Corrode feinted left, then suddenly ducked low and delivered a brutal punch to Troy's gut.

Troy's shield couldn't form in time.

The impact knocked the wind out of him. He stumbled, gasping for breath, before a second punch sent him crashing into the alley wall. His head spun.

Mr. Corrode towered over him. "Game over."

Troy barely had time to react before the villain's foot slammed into his chest. His vision blurred. His ribs screamed in pain.

He was losing.

Then, a ball of fire blasted through the air.

It struck Mr. Corrode in the side, exploding on impact. The villain let out a choked cry as he was sent soaring across the alley, crashing into a dumpster.

Troy, still gasping for breath, forced his head up.

A figure stepped forward.

Jackson.

The S-Class fire user stood there, arms crossed, eyes burning with pure contempt.

"Pathetic," Jackson muttered, glaring at Mr. Corrode. "You really thought you could mess with an S-Class?"

Mr. Corrode groaned, barely managing to lift himself up. Jackson raised his hand, forming another fireball. This time, the flames twisted into the shape of a knife—a burning blade.

"I'm putting you down," Jackson said coldly.

Troy's eyes widened. He's gonna kill him.

Before he could react, Jackson lunged forward, the flaming knife aiming straight for Mr. Corrode's chest.

Troy moved instinctively.

He threw up a bubble shield—right between Jackson's blade and the villain.

The fire met the soap-like surface—but the sheer heat tore through it.

The burning knife seared into Troy's arm.

Agony exploded through his body.

He let out a sharp, ragged scream as the scent of burnt flesh filled the air. His arm throbbed violently, the pain unlike anything he had ever felt.

Still—he didn't move.

His body trembled, his breath came in ragged gasps, but he stood firm, blocking Jackson from getting any closer.

Jackson's eyes widened slightly. "What the hell are you doing?"

Troy, despite the searing pain, glared at him. His voice was hoarse but steady.

"Heroes. Don't. Kill. People."

For a moment, the alley was silent.

Jackson's expression darkened. "You idiot. He's a villain. He deserves it."

Troy's breathing was shaky, but he didn't back down. "That's not your choice to make."

Sirens blared in the distance. The police and ambulance were on their way.

Jackson clicked his tongue, then extinguished his flame with a snap of his fingers. "Tch. Whatever."

He turned and walked off without another word.

Troy, his vision blurring from the pain, slumped to his knees. The last thing he saw before everything faded was Annie rushing toward him, calling his name.