Reposted from Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity

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Lung toyed with a flame in one of his hands as he watched Leviathan's rampage.

The Sentai Elite were battling the thing, assisted by the gaijin heroes. Once every few minutes, someone passed him, flying, carrying wounded. Lung didn't carę.̢͡ ̕͜͏ ̢́I̸̛t͜͠ ͜w͏ą̡̡s͏͏ ̶a̧̛b̀͢͞o̷̶͡ut҉̨͝ ̨́t̷͟͠ími͏͠ng̡͡.̢ ̷͞ ̸͢If̸̵͡ h͜e ̷w͠a̧͠s̛͢ ͜g̡͡o̢͢i̢n̵g̶̸҉ ҉̴ţ̵͜o̧ ̸d̀̕o̢̢͡ ͠͝t̀h͏i̴s,̕͘ ̕h̛̕͏e̸̢'҉͟ḑ̴̛ ̢̛d͏o̢͝ ̸i̕͠͠t̸̛ ̧̕r͘i̴̧g͡h̀͘͟t̕͏͠.͞͠͡

Pain.

H́͜͞e̕ ̵̀ẃa̸͘͜s̶ ͡L̕҉͞ų̛̛n̕g͜҉Ḱ͢i̴mu͘r̶a̴҉̢ ͟K̴͜e͠nt̡̕͠á,̶͞ ̴͡n͟͠o͘͘͜t͟ ̶͠‹̷͠Î̴D̡͞ ̨̢$҉̶0̵҉(̴͘£͏Æ͏ Â̸͘͢ò̶ ̡͠an͏d̸͢͞ ̶̡h̴e̶̴ ̸c̸an͟͏'͜tq́͘ê̶̕a̛͟/̴͟͝G͞ß̡͘͢$̵&´̛͟Ó͘Ü̶̢͏!̨͜Ü͘H̕¬̨͟«̵͠a͠n̶̕ot̀͢h͡ę̨r̸̸½͢î̕҉ŕ̀͡„̛õ͟ñ̀͞F̢͜è͘͞Q̧æ͢Ã̕H̵ò͘p̢̛͞'̵̨͠ µǸˈ́+̧ì̴̀ȩ̸s̕™̸͜ ́_̧͜ß̧͢¾͏͝M̴̨͝R͢B҉́C͟D̛͟ █̨́͝█̴͞█̵͞█̸̵͝█͠██̵̕██̸̷█͞██̡█̀͞█҉͠█̷͡█̀͝█̵█҉̵██̵̢͜█͞͞█҉̕█͟͠█͜█̶̧

A tidal wave rocked the area, and h҉̷̶͉̞͇͇e̴̡͇̲͇̖̫ͅͅ(̨̫̮͙̫̟͟K̯̻̞͜e̴̙̩͚̗̠̺̻̫̕n͉̳̕t̡͔̜̫͢͡a͇͍̭̰̣̕?҉͔̱̼̞̩̣ͅ)̡̖̦̼͇̕ had to hold on to a nearby building to keep from falling. Heroes were swept up in the wash of water, and buildings were levelled. Despite the disorientation of remembering, h̵̷̕͝è͢ could feel the scales surge beneath his skin, just itching to be brought to the surface. The fire at h̷͘i̵̡s̸̀͞ core burned in anticipation.

Eidolon was fighting now. He hurled globes of energy the size of small houses at Leviathan as Hero blasted it with a beam that stilled it motion. The creature was knocked away, skin flayed away with each attack that landed. Eidolon's own hydrokinesis deflected the lizard's ranged attacks, diverting them skyward or off to one side. Leviathan couldn't attack from range, and couldn't get close without getting pummeled. It attempted to retreat, only for Japan's foremost team, the Sentai Elite, to step into its way.

"Are you fighting?"

L͘̕͠u͏n̴̨̢g̛͡ turned to look at the speaker. A woman in a yellow and black costume holding a tinkertech sword. Bláck̶ Kàze, on͏e of the Sénta͢i̡,̷ ̧a͢ p͢a҉r̛t ́o҉f҉ ͞h̷im̢ ͟w̕h͞is͢p͢er͢ed͏. Ĺi̡͜n̡͝g͞͏e͠҉̴ŕ̢e̛ḑ̷͘ ̛͢i͟͡n͡ ͞҉̷t̸̶͜h̢e͜ ̢̨̀r̵̢ui̵͡n͠͏͡s̵̀ ͢ò̀f̨͠ ̧͢Ḱ̛̕y̶͡u̢śh͘͜u͠,̛ ͏ki̷̸l̴͢l̢i͟n͠͏g̴̨͡ ̕͞sù̸ŕ̡͡v̨̀͜i̡v̛o̷̡r͡s̨̀,͞ ̧͘ki҉͡ll͏͡ìng̵̵̢ ̷̵̛r͜e̛͟sc͘ų̨é͏ŕ̶ś,͏̷͏ ̕k̸i̛͡l̴l͡e̸d ͏̵an͏y̶òn͞e̡ ̀͞s̵͞he̕ ͏̵̕s͝a͘w͜.̵́́

"Yes," h͘e answered.

Another tidal wave rocked the area. The water swept up to waist level and forced him to hold the windowsill to avoid losing his footing. He caught the Sentai's wrist to keep her from being washed away.

"Thanks." she said, once the water was mostly gone.

He only grunted a response.

"Why are you back here?"

"My power needs time to grow stronger." he answered. "And you should be fighting."

"I can't do anything. My power hurts people, but it doesn't hurt it. I'm not permitted to leave."

The heroes were winning, slowly but surely. Slowly more than anything. Each tidal wave was doing catastrophic damage in the meantime. Even if it was driven off, Kyushu would still drown.

I'͝ll̶ fįght.̨

With that very thought, his power started stirring into effect. The scales burst out, bristling as they arranged themselves, hardening with each step he took towards the Endbringer.

Another tidal wave hit. Leviathan disappeared in the midst of it, reappearing elsewhere. He could hear the destruction as the beast clawed and tore through the base of one building that heroes were perched on. He ran faster, felt himself growing stronger as he got closer.

The waves were more frequent now. Barely a minute passed between the strikes, with each wave reaching further inland than the last, and only a handful of buildings stood at their full height; the only remains of Fukuoka. It was in one of those brief moments of respite that the ground shuddered. He nearly lost his footing.

Eidolon backed off, and Alexandria stepped in, flying into close quarters with the beast, battering it. It tried to duck beneath the water, but she broke off to fly beneath, using her strength and the speed of her flight to part the water, cutting off its retreat. Leviathan slowed as it entered open air, allowing Legend to catch him square in the chest, then Alexandria to grab its tail.

She flew straight up, then swung. Leviathan fell, and the resulting impact was oddly out of sync with its mass. The water, in particular, seemed to react, a single ripple extending outward, clearing an area around it of any and all water.

He braced himself, felt the water collide with him with a force like a locomotive, was summarily dragged beneath, trapped, suffocating. Fire wreathed his form, flash boiling away the water. Other heroes were pushed back a hundred meters, but he was already standing, burning himself dry, advancing on the fight, where Eidolon was again engaging with Leviathan. Another tidal wave struck, barely giving the defending forces time to recover from the last assault. He lost his footing, lost another dozen feet of headway.

More scales were sprouting, they were growing en masse now. He changed faster, shoulders broadening, chest heavy with muscle. He had to rest his taloned hands on the ground to maintain his balance. The ground was shaking almost constantly, now. The lasers, Eidolon's strikes, the very impacts of the blows Alexandria delivered, the Sentai's attacks, the barrages from assisting heroes. A cacophony of noise, light and violence.

He struck Leviathan, and was struck in turn, his bones broken, internal organs liquified.

He struggled to his feet, found one femur in two distinct pieces. He knelt instead, resting his weight on one knee, the other foot planted on the ground, taloned toes biting into asphalt, and he directed a constant stream of fire at the water around the Endbringer. Layers too hard, strip away its water.

A flick of Leviathan's tail sent him sprawling. But he had already reached a critical point. His leg was already healing, the changes speeding up. He stopped to hold his leg, pull the bones into what was more or less the right position, so they could bond. A Sentai in purple and green helped him up. Again, a stream of fire, but the colour was more blue than red.

The Sentai joined him, adding their ranged fire to his. They had a man, Masamune, who mass produced their armour and weapons, each with wrist-mounted laser guns, rifles at their hips. Sixteen or seventeen of them opened fire with both weapons at the same time.

Leviathan turned, struck. Some Sentai used powers to soften or deflect the incoming scythe of water.

Leviathan charged, and he stepped forward to meet the brute, roared in defiance.

He wasn't strong enough. Leviathan knocked him aside, and he rolled, putting taloned hands and feet beneath him before rushing forward, shallow leaps that carried him over the water that was knee-high to the humans but barely reached half way up his own calves.

His wings were little more than spear-like growths protruding from his back, but they could still be used. Flames gathered at the ends, intensifying into streams that propelled him onto Leviathan's back.

He found handholds in the shallow wounds and clung on, letting fire rush out from him, boil away at the watery echo around the beast. But more water flowed out, faster than his flames.

A wave crashed upon him, trying to unseat him. He clung on, digging deeper and clawing flesh away. Deeper in Leviathan's body, the flesh was only harder, the ichor making it slick. Leviathan shook him free, and he found no trouble in putting his feet under him. His mouth strained, opened wider than it should have, four individual mouthparts flexing, bristling with teeth, his own lips buried somewhere deep inside, altered. The spear-like growths on his back opened up, spread, and became wings. Blood-red flesh stretched between the metallic, bat-like bones.

His senses expanded, felt the world around him as a haze of red and blue. The ground was rumbling constantly, to the point that the local heroes were starting to seem more concerned about the landscape than about Leviathan.

The ground shifted underfoot. Heroes scrambled for cover, scrambled to run or save their friends, and water rushed forth. He merely set his taloned toes inthe ground, ignoring the water, the debris, and the people that flowed past him.

Leviathan charged him.

He was almost the same size as the endbringer now. Fire against water, claw against claw. Leviathan hit harder, but he healed faster. The ground parted and ocean water streamed in from miles away. Eidolon broke away to stop the waves while Hero backed away, armour shifting into a different configuration. Leviathan tried to drag him closer to the chasm, no doubt wanting to fight in that churning abyss. He dug talons into the ground and resisted.

Alexandria was there in a heartbeat, helping, driving the monster back, buying him time to regain his footing.

"Hold it down!" she said in English, which he (didn't) understood.

He flew up, flames intensifying around his form and slammed down into the beast from above. Jets of compressed water ripped into him, creating a shower of broken scales. Claws ripped into his entrails, yet he endured and continued to grapple with the beast.

He felt the heat around him and pulled it into his jaws. The temperature plummeted and the waves drowning the city froze. Liquid nitrogen gathered on his skin, spilling over him as more and more heat was drawn in.

Opening his jaws, he spat out a white beam of heat and light, burning through layers of Leviathan's flesh and charring those beneath. Cosmetic damage.

The Endbringer reeled back in a mimicry of pain.

Hero, whose armour was glowing with repressed power, flew in front of him and aimed his gauntlets at the beast. There was a low screech, and with a terrifying whine, a white light illuminated the entire battlefield, and a wave of force sent him sprawling.

The endbringer's torso was a smouldering ruin, with pieces of skeleton poking out at numerous points. An arm was on the ground, and a leg was left hanging by a few threads of flesh.

Wounded, it broke away and retreated into the depths.


Fukuoka was dead, as was neighbouring Kitakyushu.

The man named Kimura Kenta surveyed the flooded ruins with a weary eye. An entire prefecture drowned. It was little wonder that his…counterpart had believed that Endbringers could not be defeated. They would have seemed like a force of nature to the man he could have been; stopping them would be like stopping the tides. But he had been wrong. The golden one had tore Behemoth apart with almost insulting ease.

He thought about the creed he had lived by. To accumulate respect and fear. Not the fear of the unknown and unanswered questions, but the fear of knowing. Of realities. Of the certainty that if I fight this man, I lose. I know him, and I quiver to be in his presence. I know he will hurt me and I know it will be the worst pain imaginable.

Now, that idea seemed laughably petty. Fear was transient; it had no meaning when everything is dead, when an alien god tears down the world piece by piece.

The rain still fell unceasingly.

His hearing allows him to listen to every drop, from the heavy pattling of the water striking concrete to the softer clinks of them falling on the metal scales that now cover his skin and the sharp cracks of the rain striking the cold, stiff corpses floating over his feet.

Kenta, (because that's who he was and having the memories of some imbecile who had never been in a real fight wouldn't change that) looked down. He feels solid ground sliding away beneath him, like sand swept out in the tide on a beach. He stands taller than most buildings now; taller than Leviathan and the water is at his knees, the corpses float past, the junk and filth and remains of a city sliding away in the tide.

The wings that have grown on his back recede back into his flesh. The beast has fled now. And like the tide of the ocean that rises and falls with the pull of the moon; His power now falls with no enemy to face, no moon to bring it forth. It will take hours for his body to return to normal.

He moves, and the water roils beneath him. Bodies, wood, garbage. He feels a car crumple beneath the talons that are now his feet, hears the metal buckle beneath the water and the asphalt crack and slide away into the ocean.

His hearing is good. He can hear everything for a mile. Perhaps more.

Among the faint hissing of rain, he could hear the weakening heartbeats of the wounded and dying, as well as those of rescuers rushing through gutted buildings and flooded streets.

Something compels him to reach for the one closest to him, softening by the second. Claws ripped away a chunk of rubble lying in the water

It was a woman in her fifties, around the same age as his own mother, who was safe back in is struggling, right arm twisted the wrong way. Fresh blood seeps through the bone, her left leg is crushed beneath the weight of shattered concrete. She pushes, struggling to pry it free, to shove the impossible weight off of her.
She has lived through an endbringer attack, only to die here.

The thought sickens him.

Summoning fire to cauterise her leg wound, he hurried over to the field hospital that had been set up.

There were more people to save after all.