JJ_Rose_4495

After causing the death of the world greatest hero. Arthur was branded the villain and was meant to rot in jail till a hero saw that he was misunderstood with his action. Offering him a second chance to redeem himself.

The nameless Hero

The sky above District 9 was choked with smoke, the air thick with the scent of burning metal and panic.

Sirens wailed in the distance as civilians fled in every direction, their screams swallowed by the roar of collapsing buildings.

At the heart of the destruction stood Hothead, an S-rank villain whose body burned like molten rock, his laughter booming as he hurled fireballs into the streets.

Around him, his goons—armed with stolen tech and Triggers of their own—looted storefronts and took hostages.

The Top Five Heroes had already engaged Hothead directly, their combined might turning the battlefield into a storm of water, steel, and brute force.

Which left Arthur and Flamestar with one job:

Arthur moved swiftly, his blue trench coat flaring behind him as he guided a group of survivors through the wreckage.

No one recognized him—not as the boy who killed Empire Gold, not as the prisoner from Ironhold. To them, he was just another Hero.

Flamestar, ever the beacon of hope, kept her voice steady, "This way! Stay close!"

They had just ushered four people to safety when—

A blast of compressed air slammed into them from behind, sending both Heroes crashing through the windows of a corner store. Glass shattered, shelves toppled, and for a moment, the world spun.

Arthur groaned, pushing himself up only to see Hothead's right-hand man, a wiry figure with wind manipulation, smirking down at them.

"Heh. I was expecting a challenge but you are piece of cake."

Flamestar wiped blood from her lip, her eyes narrowing, "Do it now!"

The man's grin faltered as Arthur stood, completely unharmed.

He looked directly into Arthur's left eye.

The man's Trigger was unresponsive.

Flamestar's palms ignited, her fire twisting into the shape of a blazing star before it firing it towards him, sending him skidding across the pavement, unconscious.

Flamestar smirked, "Nice teamwork."

Arthur moved like a ghost, his blue-eyed knight materializing in bursts of spectral flame, disarming and disabling enemies with brutal efficiency.

Flamestar's fire danced around them, a controlled inferno keeping the thugs at bay.

Arthur's head snapped toward an apartment complex, where a little girl—no older than six—was being chased by one of Hothead's goons.

"Go!" she shouted, already turning to cover him.

The apartment hallway was dark, the girl's terrified sobs echoing off the walls. The goon laughed, his Trigger-enhanced muscles bulging as he reached for her.

Arthur's armored knight fist slammed him into the wall.

The man gasped, his Trigger already disabled by Arthur's glare.

His knight's fists rained down, each blow precise, each strike measured. Not enough to kill.

By the time Arthur was done, the man was a bruised, groaning heap on the floor.

The little girl was curled into a ball, trembling.

Arthur knelt, his voice softer than he thought possible.

She peeked up at him, tears streaking her face. "I-I want my mom…"

Arthur hesitated. Then, slowly, he held out his hand.

"You'll see her. Every single day from now."

She stared at his fingers—then, tentatively, took them.

By the time Arthur led the girl outside, the battle was over.

Hothead lay defeated, encased in Wateredge's liquid prison, while the other Heroes rounded up the remaining criminals.

Flamestar jogged over, relief flashing in her eyes when she saw the girl clinging onto Arthur leg, "Well-done for your first day."

She studied him for a long moment—then smiled, "You're ready."

Chapter 3: A hero was born