Honestly, I hate how 's editing thing works, this would be the fourth time I'm rewriting this. Honestly might just stay on Ao3 or Wattpad, least their editing systems don't make me redo all my work.
Senba Academy - One Week After Akito's Luck Returned
It had been about a week since Akito's luck came back with a vengeance, and his friends had quickly come to understand what he meant by the 'stockpile' effect. His misfortune hadn't just resumed—it had accumulated over the two-month hiatus, now unleashing itself in a relentless onslaught. As a result, Akito had made the conscious decision to keep his distance whenever possible, ensuring that no one got caught in the crossfire of his misfortune.
That was how he ended up near Senba Academy, Nagazora's other high school.
Misako had requested the help of the Assault Divison for a job, and since she and Snake probably couldn't navigate the city on their own without causing mass panic… or starting a gangfight, Akito had volunteered to scope out the area before bringing them over. He wasn't sure what kind of work Misako was dragging them into, but if the Trio was involved, it was probably something that either required them in general or their divisions. He honestly hoped it wasn't another one of Sasha's 'experiments'—the last time that happened, he had ended up waking up to a giant wolf curled around him like he was a teddy bear.
Still, it gave him something to do, and—more importantly—allowed him to be far enough from the others to avoid dragging them into his current disaster-prone existence.
He had just finished mapping out a potential route when he felt it—that strange, crawling sensation at the back of his neck. It wasn't the usual warning his instincts screamed at him when his luck was about to screw him over—this was different. It felt like he was being watched.
Turning his head, his gaze landed on someone… odd.
A girl stood a few meters away, staring at him with an unreadable expression. She had purple hair with lighter tips, striking pinkish eyes, and wore the Senba Academy sailor uniform—a dark blazer draped loosely over her shoulders. She wasn't someone he recognized, which immediately made Akito wary. Most people who went out of their way to stare at him like that either wanted something or were about to make his life difficult.
For a solid minute, the two simply stared at each other—Akito with questioning caution, the girl with mild confusion.
Then, just as he was about to turn and leave, she suddenly pointed directly at him.
"You're the anomaly I've been sensing!"
…
A long silence followed.
Akito blinked. Once. Twice. Then slowly, carefully, he raised a hand to point at himself, as if clarifying who exactly she was talking about.
The girl nodded firmly.
Akito blinked once more.
"…I'm a what?"
The girl narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him like he was some sort of rare specimen. Akito, having dealt with plenty of weirdos in his life (including Hanzo's friends, Kiana, and Sasha when she was feeling particularly unhinged), simply sighed and rubbed his temples.
"You're the anomaly," the girl repeated, stepping closer as if to confirm something. "You're disrupting the flow of luck, probability, and fortune itself!"
Akito stared at her. "Right. And you are…?"
She straightened her posture, flipping her blazer over her shoulders dramatically. "Hourajii Kyuushou, master of fate, bringer of destiny, and the one who shall unravel the mysteries of the world!"
Akito processed that for a moment. His eyes flicked to the Senba Academy logo on her uniform. Then back to her. "…You're a chuunibyou, aren't you?"
Hourajii gasped, scandalized. "You dare call my observations childish delusions!? Nay, it is you who are blind to the fabric of fate itself! A storm of misfortune swirls around you, an aberration in the grand design!"
Akito exhaled, already regretting not just walking away. "Okay, ignoring whatever nonsense you're spewing—what do you actually mean by anomaly? Because if you're saying my luck is broken, congratulations, you get a gold star for figuring out what I've known my entire life."
Hourajii huffed, placing a hand on her hip. "Tch. I suppose you would be aware of it. But the depths of your curse go beyond what you likely understand. Your mere presence distorts probability itself. You're like a walking paradox! A glitch in fate!"
Akito side-eyed her. "Glitch in fate? That sounds oddly familiar to something Sasha's said before."
Hourajii, intrigued, leaned forward. "Ah-ha! Then I must meet this Sasha! If she too has seen the truth, then perhaps I have found an ally in unraveling your nature!"
Akito absolutely twitched, already thinking about the absolute nightmare that would be, shook his head. "Absolutely not. You two in the same room sounds like the kind of thing that would shave years off my lifespan."
Hourajii grinned. "Then I must meet her!"
Akito groaned. "Why is it always me…?"
The girl studied him for a moment longer before nodding to herself. "Interesting... very interesting. You might actually be useful."
That made Akito pause. "Wait, hold on—useful for what?"
The girl simply smirked, tapping her temple. "You'll see soon enough." Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Akito standing there, thoroughly confused.
He let out a deep sigh. "...I hate it when people do that."
And just as he was about to leave, a trash can lid somehow detached from a nearby bin and smacked him square in the back of the head.
Akito groaned. "Yeah, yeah. I get it, bad luck's back in full force. No need to rub it in."
Somewhere, in the grand machinations of fate, his so-called 'Luck' probably chuckled.
Unbeknownst to him, the Therapy Trio—Ensign, Commander, and Officer—had been watching the entire interaction, tails wagging in interest as they awaited their chance to introduce themselves to the new friend Akito had encountered.
And from a short distance away, students from Senba Academy were already snapping pictures, because of course Akito couldn't go anywhere without causing a stir.
-O-
Akito brushed off the strange encounter and continued his way toward Senba Academy. The school itself was fairly large, perhaps just barely bigger than Chiba Academy due to the small courtyard in front. From his position, he could already see Aaaaah, systematically mapping out potential shortcuts and escape routes. Meanwhile, Spectre, Scout, and Vann were conducting their own recon, each of them pinpointing blind spots in camera coverage—places with the lowest surveillance visibility, areas of interest that could be useful later. And, of course, Cain, his ever-faithful companion, remained within range, observing everything from a separate vantage point like the predator he was.
So far, everything was going smoothly.
Until it wasn't.
Ten minutes later, as he rounded a corner, that same girl suddenly popped up from behind a vending machine like some kind of horror game jump scare.
Akito narrowing his eyes in mild exasperation as the girl pointed directly at him once again. "You!" she declared, as if she had just made a grand discovery. "Tell me your name!"
Akito sighed, already tired of this conversation. "Check the internet," he muttered, barely slowing his pace as he walked past her.
The girl, not deterred in the slightest, pouted before huffing and jogging after him. "Oh, come on! That's not fair! Just tell me your name already!"
Akito didn't even bother glancing at her as he continued forward. "Kaito Astra," he answered flatly, throwing out a completely fabricated alias before moving to walk around her.
Unfortunately, she was faster than he anticipated and jumped in front of him, arms outstretched to block his path. "Do you take me for a fool?! That's not your real name!"
Akito raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Well, that's my name you're insulting," he replied, giving her a deadpan look. "If you don't have anything else to say—" He casually stepped to the right to go around her.
But she moved with him.
"I know that's not your real name because I can see the future!" she declared proudly, puffing out her chest.
Akito, now mildly interested despite himself, gave her a side glance. "Can you see the future, or a future?"
The girl grinned, as if delighted by the question, before dramatically pointing at herself. "That's simple! I'm the Chosen One!"
Akito blinked.
Several pedestrians turned their heads toward the loud proclamation before quickly looking away, as if this was something they had seen far too many times before.
'Ah,' Akito realized. 'So she's just like this.'
Suppressing a deep sigh, he rubbed his temple. 'Why is it always me that gets the weird ones?'
Akito sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had already encountered a fair share of eccentrics in his life, and somehow, they always seemed drawn to him. Whether it was Kiana's boundless energy, Airi's antics, or even Hanzo's questionable acquaintances (He was fairly sure that at least four of the Mercenary Team were War Criminals, he had seen the reports), he had thought he had seen it all.
But now, here he was, standing in the middle of the street, being confronted by a self-proclaimed "Chosen One" who apparently had a bone to pick with his alias.
He glanced at Cain, his crow companion, who was watching the scene with an amused tilt of his head, as if to say, 'Well, this is your problem now.'
"Right. Chosen One. Got it." Akito nodded slowly, his tone so flat it could make a cutting board jealous. He stepped to the side again, trying to walk past her, but the girl immediately matched his movement, blocking his path once more.
"I know you're different!" she declared, pointing at him dramatically. "I can see it! Your presence is like a shifting void in the flow of fate—no, more like a massive, chaotic whirlpool sucking everything in! A storm of randomness, a tear in the fabric of destiny itself!"
Akito simply stared at her, unimpressed. "You done?"
She puffed up her cheeks in frustration. "No! I won't stop until you tell me your real name!"
Akito tilted his head slightly, feigning deep thought. "Hmm… what if I told you it was Kaito Astra?"
"Liar."
"Well, I could give you my actual name, but then I'd have to charge you for it. Information isn't free, after all."
The girl huffed. "I don't have money on me."
"Tough luck then," Akito shrugged, stepping around her.
She quickly stepped in front of him again, arms spread out like some kind of human blockade. "You're not getting away! This is fate! We were meant to meet! There's a reason for this!"
Akito sighed, rolling his shoulders. "I knew my luck was acting up again, but this is getting ridiculous."
The girl smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "See? Even you acknowledge that fate brought us together!"
"I was talking about bad luck."
"Details," she waved him off.
Akito gave her a flat look. "Fine. You want my real name?"
The girl perked up instantly, nodding eagerly.
Leaning in slightly, Akito met her gaze and said, completely deadpan, "John Smith."
The girl let out a dramatic gasp. "You—you monster!"
Akito barely held back a chuckle. "I am the monster? You're the one stalking me like a conspiracy theorist finding a government cover-up."
"It's not stalking!" she protested. "It's investigation!"
"Right. Totally different things," he muttered, moving past her again—only for her to whirl around and chase after him once more.
Akito sighed. "Okay, let's go over this again. You see the future, and because of that, you somehow know my real name?"
"Yes!" The girl declared proudly, hands on her hips. "Or at least, I will know it! The threads of fate will unravel before me, revealing the truth in due time!"
Akito let out a flat, unimpressed hum. "Uh-huh. So, you don't actually know my name yet, you're just hoping I'll slip up and say it?"
The girl blinked. "No—" she stopped, frowning, then narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "...Yes?"
Akito sighed again. "I see. So, not seeing the future, just guessing it."
"I can see the future!" The girl puffed up, clearly not used to being questioned. "I just... haven't figured out yours yet!"
Akito his gaze half-lidded. "Sounds unreliable."
The girl pouted, stamping her foot. "Fate is not unreliable! It just takes time! If I were to shake your hand right now, I'd probably get a vision of your true destiny!"
"Pass."
The rejection was immediate and firm.
The girl deflated slightly but quickly recovered. "Then tell me your name!"
"I already did," Akito said flatly. "Kaito Astra."
"That's not your real name!"
"Okay, John Smith."
"That isn't it either!"
"And yet, they are the only names you're getting."
The girl huffed, crossing her arms. "Fine. Then I'll just follow you until fate tells me!"
Akito paused for a moment, considering her words. Then, after a beat of silence, he nodded. "Alright."
The girl blinked. "...Wait, really?"
"Yeah, sure," Akito said, walking past her. "Try to keep up."
The girl quickly stepped in line beside him, suspicious. "You don't seem too worried about being followed."
"Not really."
"And why's that?"
Akito finally turned his gaze to her, smirking ever so slightly. "Because if my luck has anything to say about it, you'll either get distracted by something ridiculous, or my bad luck will chase you off before the end of the day."
The girl frowned. "Hah! You underestimate my resolve!"
As if on cue, a stray advertisement board was suddenly caught in the wind and came flying straight at her.
Akito smoothly sidestepped it. The girl, still staring at him triumphantly, was not so lucky.
SMACK.
She went down like a sack of bricks.
Akito didn't even slow down. "Told you." He smirked slightly, it was nice when things like this happened to other people.
-O-
To Kyuusyou's credit, her determination was admirable. Or perhaps it was sheer bullheadedness that could rival Kiana's—Akito hadn't quite decided yet. Regardless, she somehow managed to keep pace with him, weaving through the crowded streets of Nagazora with surprising agility.
At least, until his bad luck decided to ramp up.
It wasn't quite the sentient storm of disaster from a week ago—that had been the equivalent of a cyclone specifically targeting him with perfectly intact objects—but this was still his luck. The world itself seemed to conspire against him in small, irritating ways, ensuring that no straight path existed for longer than a few seconds.
By now, he knew exactly how this went.
First, a wayward crate from a delivery truck rolled off its cart, nearly clipping his foot. Akito sidestepped it, not even looking down.
Then, an elderly man on a bicycle wobbled at the worst possible moment, his front wheel suddenly locking up for no reason. Akito twisted his body, narrowly avoiding a collision.
A flock of pigeons suddenly decided to take off from a lamppost, diving directly in his path—Akito dipped his head, weaving through them without breaking stride.
To anyone watching, it looked like his entire body was in a constant state of micro-adjustments, shifting just enough to avoid disaster while keeping up his speed. His eyes flickered rapidly, scanning his surroundings with the precision of someone who had long since accepted that the universe had it out for him.
The more observant onlookers started taking notes. A few even recorded the moment, posting snippets online.
UrbanLegendsNagazora:
👀Yo, it's that Akito guy again. Deadass tell me why this dude runs like he got Ultra Instinct.
SenbaAcademyForums:
[Video Attached]
So there was this weird girl yelling about being the Chosen One, and instead of running from her, Akito just... started dodging the environment like a main character. Are we sure this guy isn't actually some kind of secret agent?
Kyuusyou, however, did not.
Rather than taking the sudden shift in fate as a sign to retreat like any reasonable person, she doubled down.
"You think mere objects will stop me?!" she yelled, pumping her arms as she chased after him. "My resolve is far stronger than—"
Akito winced. "Oh no."
That was the worst thing she could have said.
Tempting Murphy's Law in normal circumstances was a bad idea. Doing so in his presence? That was basically assisted suicide. He had long since accepted that Lady Luck had a personal vendetta against him. In fact, he often imagined her using a dartboard with his face on it just to test what new, absurd scenarios she could drop him into.
And like clockwork, the world responded.
He braced himself.
Three... two... one—
Despite her bravado, her ability to dodge wasn't as fine-tuned as Akito's. The moment she tempted fate by yelling about her 'unbreakable resolve,' the world wasted no time proving her wrong.
A loose advertisement banner suddenly snapped from its frame, the fabric billowing down like a net. Akito instinctively ducked under it. Kyuusyou did not.
"Mmph—!?"
She flailed wildly as the banner wrapped around her, completely blocking her vision. Akito barely gave her a glance as he continued running, casually side-stepping another minor catastrophe—a knocked-over fruit stand spilling apples right where he would have been.
By the time Kyuusyou freed herself from the tangled fabric, Akito was already gaining distance. She gritted her teeth.
"Oh, you are not getting away!"
With a dramatic flourish, she tore away the last of the banner and resumed her chase, ignoring the confused onlookers.
"I'll have your name, Anomaly! The Chosen One demands it!"
Akito, still running, sighed. Running a hand down his face.
Why was it always him that got the weird ones?
At this rate, he'd end up banned from Senba Academy before he even stepped foot on campus. That'd be a new record.
…Then again, he was still banned from that aquarium's petting pool from that incident a couple of years ago.
(In his defense, how was twelve-year-old, sheltered Akito supposed to know that pushing another kid into the pool with mildly dangerous creatures was bad? They literally encouraged kids to pet them! If anything, he thought the other kid just wanted a closer look! How was he at fault for that?)
-O-
Some Time Later
Kyuusyou was still with him.
That was honestly a little impressive, considering how much she was struggling to breathe. She looked like she had run a marathon with no breaks, hunched over with her hands on her knees, sweat dripping down her forehead as she gasped for air. Meanwhile, Akito—while slightly winded—was only lightly panting, as if he had just finished a light jog instead of a relentless chase across the city.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You really don't give up, huh?"
Kyuusyou, between deep breaths, managed a grin. "Of course not! Haaahh... A Chosen One never—haaahhh—surrenders!"
Akito gave her a look. "Right."
Then, before she could process what was happening, he stepped closer.
Kyuusyou was so focused on catching her breath that she didn't even notice he had entered her personal space—at least, not until she felt something press against her cheek.
Her body froze.
Akito, calm and methodical, was applying some bandages to the small cuts she'd gotten during their chase. His hands were steady, his touch light but precise. He didn't say anything as he worked, his gaze flickering over the various scrapes and bruises she had acquired.
Kyuusyou found herself staring at him, her mind momentarily blank.
Akito wasn't doing it absentmindedly—he was actually paying attention, making sure the bandage was secure, adjusting it slightly before smoothing it down with practiced ease. He then took a step back, scanning her for any other injuries.
It was a silent but thorough once-over.
Kyuusyou blinked, tilting her head in confusion. "...Why?"
Akito exhaled through his nose. "It was technically my fault you got caught up in that mess," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Kyuusyou paused. For the first time since meeting him, she actually hesitated.
For a brief moment anyways.
Then she loudly proclaimed, "That was a mere warmup!" before flexing her arm with exaggerated confidence, as if the last ten minutes hadn't nearly wiped her out.
Akito stared at her with the flattest look possible.
She grinned.
There was a beat of silence between them before Akito suddenly spoke again, his voice casual.
"Akito Hoshizora."
Kyuusyou blinked again. "...Huh?"
Akito quirked his lips slightly, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his face. "My name. You did ask, remember?"
Kyuusyou's expression slowly shifted from confusion to realization.
Then she broke into a wide grin, pointing at him dramatically. "Hah! I knew you'd tell me eventually!"
Akito sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Don't make me regret it."
Too late.
Kyuusyou looked far too pleased with herself now, like a particularly smug cat before pausing.
"Wait a minute."
Akito raised an eyebrow.
A beat of silence passed before Kyuusyou's face lit up with recognition, followed swiftly by an exaggerated gasp.
"Wait, you mean you are—? That Akito!?"
The sheer dramatic weight behind her reaction made Akito wonder if he had just introduced himself as some legendary figure instead of a perpetually unlucky high schooler. His expression flattened.
"Pretty sure I just said that."
Kyuusyou's eyes narrowed as if scanning him for secrets, then she crossed her arms, clearly dissatisfied with his nonchalant response.
"Hmph! Well, I suppose that is acceptable," she declared, tossing her hair back with a dramatic flair that only added to the sheer chuuni energy radiating off of her. "Still, it is strange… I have heard whispers of your legend, yet I never anticipated meeting the 'Unluckiest Being in Nagazora' in the flesh!"
Akito blinked. Then blinked again.
"...Legend?"
"Indeed! The rumors are numerous! The schoolboy who defies fate! The anomaly in the web of destiny! The man who outran the city itself! And now, my very own rival—Akito Hoshizora!"
Akito let out a long, slow sigh, rubbing his temple.
"So that's a thing now, huh?"
Kyuusyou nodded sagely. "Oh, absolutely. The forums and social media have been ablaze with speculation since your 'Storm of Misfortune' incident last week. Why, even I was drawn to your existence through the very fabric of fate itself!"
Akito briefly considered walking into traffic.
Not because he wanted to die or anything—he was just curious if his bad luck would spare him from this particular headache.
He inhaled deeply before exhaling through his nose, choosing to let that statement slide for now. "Right. Well, now that you know my name, you can stop following me now, yeah?"
Kyuusyou gasped in mock offense. "What!? You dare dismiss the Chosen One so easily? Foolish mortal, our fates are already intertwined!"
"I'm gonna go now." Akito turned on his heel.
"Wait!" She rushed forward, immediately falling back in step with him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You must accompany me, Akito Hoshizora! I have foreseen it!"
Akito gave her a sidelong glance. "Did you foresee yourself getting caught in a street banner too?"
Kyuusyou coughed into her fist. "That was merely... an unfortunate miscalculation!"
Akito sighed. "Welcome to my life."
And with that, he continued toward Senba Academy, now with an overly dramatic chuuni self-proclaimed 'Chosen One' trailing behind him.
This was going to be a long day.
-O-
Akito side-eyed the girl—Houraiji Kyuusyou—as she happily trailed after him, chattering about fate, destiny, and whatever chuuni nonsense she had convinced herself of. He was used to odd people orbiting him like some kind of misfortune-bound celestial body, but this?
This was something else.
Letting out a sigh, he figured he might as well do something useful with this situation. 'Oh, what the hell,' he thought, shifting the internal lever in his mind, allowing his synesthesia to grow stronger.
Synesthesia was something he could never truly turn off—always there, always dissecting the world around him into a symphony of colors, scents, and sounds. It was an ability and a curse in equal measure. If he let it run wild, it was too much—a constant flood of information his brain couldn't process without screaming in protest. He remembered, as a child, the padded white room Hanzo, Shark, and Sloth had kept him in to keep him from collapsing under the sheer weight of the world's stimuli. It wasn't quick, it was slow, almost mind-numbingly but he had learned.
Since then, he had learned to dull it. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was enough. A mental lever existed in his mind—on one end, complete sensory overload; on the other, a manageable dull hum. For an average commute to school, he kept it halfway—enough to be aware, but not enough to suffer.
But now, as he cranked it up about half a quarter more, the city revealed itself in its full, overwhelming detail.
The city's sound took on shape and color. Footsteps left vibrant trails of fading motion, each step echoing as a soft glow before dissolving into the air. Distant conversations pulsed like gentle waves brushing against his skin, a constant murmur of life.
The hum of traffic thrummed in streaks of deep blue and white, flowing along streets like rivers of sound. Engines growled in a deep, rolling red, while distant horns cut through the air in sharp bursts of electric yellow. The very air felt heavy with movement, swaying in unseen currents, the echoes of human presence blending into the living, breathing cityscape.
And then there was her.
Houraiji Kyuusyou.
He froze for a moment. Just a second—just long enough for his brain to register what he was seeing.
Then, as naturally as breathing, he kept walking, though his mind churned, trying to make sense of it.
Her color.
Her scent.
'What the actual fuck?'
Akito was used to people having an aura—not in a supernatural way, but as part of his synesthesia. Most people carried colors that reflected aspects of themselves. Some burned bright, some muted, some erratic. Kiana was a wild flare of white and blue, ever-shifting between chaos and warmth. Mei was deep violet and red, stormy yet restrained. Bronya was cold silver, calm and steady like the hum of machinery.
Houraiji Kyuusyou?
'Kaleidoscope.'
It wasn't just one color. It was every color, constantly shifting, breaking apart, and reforming in an endless, chaotic dance. A constantly changing existence. His mind, trained by years of passive observation, instinctively tried to classify it.
The dictionary definition surfaced unbidden in his thoughts.
"A kaleidoscope, sold usually as a toy, also has value for the pattern designer. The kaleidoscope illustrates the image-forming properties of combined, inclined mirrors."
That was what she was. A mirrored anomaly, a shifting entity that refused to be bound by any singular presence.
People's auras told a story. Kiana's aura burned with emotions too intense to be contained. Mei's aura held back tides of things unsaid. Bronya's aura whispered of stability, purpose, and control yet hid emptiness.
Houraiji Kyuusyou?
She wasn't one thing. She was an ever-changing possibility. A shifting, chaotic, constantly reforming future.
And the scent—god, the scent.
It wasn't a smell in the normal sense. It wasn't floral or sharp or smoky. It was everything. A whirlwind of conflicting impressions—fresh rain and burning metal, ink on parchment and the static hum of an old TV, the sweetness of candy and the bitter edge of something long forgotten.
The closest thing he could remotely compare it to was standing at the crossroads of a thousand different choices, breathing in the potential of a hundred different what-ifs all colliding into one being.
Houraiji Kyuusyou, in the way only she could, was still happily rambling about fate, unaware that Akito was currently questioning reality itself.
What the hell is she?
Akito didn't do gut feelings—his luck never gave him that luxury. But his instincts were screaming at him that Kyuusyou was more than just some chuuni with an overactive imagination.
He sighed deeply.
Of course. Of course the weird ones would gravitate to him.
"Hey." His voice came out flatter than he intended, but Kyuusyou perked up nonetheless.
"Hm? Have you finally accepted our fated encounter, Akito Hoshizora?"
Akito gave her a long, slow stare before finally saying, "...Are you even human?"
Kyuusyou blinked.
Then, without missing a beat, she smirked and said, "Now that is an excellent question!"
Akito sighed again.
As if on cue, both of their phones pinged at the same time.
Akito glanced down, his screen lighting up with a familiar message.
[Misako]: Where are you?
A quick flick of his eyes to Kyuusyou's phone showed the exact same message, though from a different sender.
Both of their gazes drifted toward the time displayed at the top.
6:57 PM.
"Huh," Akito hummed under his breath.
Kyuusyou, in true Kyuusyou fashion, took a dramatic step back, a hand raised to her chest as if preparing for some theatrical farewell speech. Before she could even get the first word out, Akito snatched her phone right out of her hands.
"Wha—Hey! That's mine!"
Ignoring her squawking protests and attempts to grab it back, Akito quickly pulled up her contacts list.
'...Four contacts?'
He blinked.
For someone as loud and expressive as she was, he had assumed she would have at least a dozen numbers saved—maybe a group chat filled with equally eccentric people. But there were only four names listed.
A quiet thought crossed his mind.
'...She's lonelier than she lets on.'
Without another word, he entered his number, saved it, and handed the phone back.
Kyuusyou snatched it from his grasp, clutching it protectively before immediately launching into an angry rant about boundaries, personal space, and the sacred nature of a maiden's phone.
It lasted all of three seconds before she went silent, her eyes locked onto the screen.
A flicker of something—confusion, surprise, maybe even something deeper—passed through her expression.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to him.
Akito simply shrugged. "You're interesting, I suppose. Let's talk another time."
For a brief moment, Kyuusyou just stared at him. Then, her lips curled into a wide, almost manic grin.
"I knew you liked me, Rival!"
Akito pursed his lips. "Let's not go that far yet."
Kyuusyou, in true Kyuusyou fashion, completely ignored him.
-O-
With one last glance at Kyuusyou, who was still grinning to herself like she had won some kind of battle, Akito turned and walked away, waving lazily over his shoulder.
His phone vibrated again.
[Misako]: Change of Plans. We're moving in, in less than a week.
Akito raised an eyebrow.
[Akito]: What happened to the month's timeframe?
The response was almost immediate.
[Misako]: We changed our minds.
Akito frowned.
Despite how Misako and Sasha looked like a perfectly united front, anyone who actually knew them was aware that they fought like cats and dogs over just about anything. Sure, they had mellowed out as they got older, but something about this didn't sit right with him.
Namely, the fact that Misako—the cautious one—was suddenly rushing the timeline.
[Akito]: Understood. Who do you need?
A few moments later, his phone buzzed again.
[Misako]: Give me Grim's Secondary Squad.
Akito's eyes widened slightly.
[Akito]: What happened to needing the Assault Division?
[Misako]: Simple. We want them to suffer.
Akito sighed.
That… was concerning.
Sure, Misako was no stranger to ruthlessness, but this wasn't about efficiency. This was personal.
And she was asking for Grim's division.
Y'know. The squad whose entire memo was basically: "Fuck subtlety, we're going for kills and humiliation. Or more specifically in the words of Shark, 'Fuck It, We Ball.'
His fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before he typed out his response.
[Akito]: Give me two days. I'll get Aaaaah to locate Frostbite and get Grim to find Zombie.
[Misako]: Acknowledged.
Akito sighed louder this time, running a hand down his face.
What the hell happened?
Shaking his head, he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers twice before whistling a particularly sharp tune—one that Cain would recognize instantly.
A familiar caw rang through the night air as his ever-reliable crow took off, soaring into the sky.
Cain would find Grim soon enough.
-O-
Pandora's Box Part Two (Omake)
The Wards – ENE Team Chat (Stop changing your names)
Clockblocker: OKAY. We need to talk about this new cape because what the actual hell?
🔵 Kid Win: If you're talking about the person who dropped Lung with a finger gun and then pulled a literal fighter jet out of their pocket, yeah. Yeah, we do.
Vista: That was real, right? Like, we all saw that? Not some Tinker special effects prank?
Clockblocker: Nah, this is real. PRT confirmed it.
🔵 Kid Win: Speaking of which… That jet? That's not normal Tinker bullshit. I don't care how good a Tinker you are; fighter jets aren't compactible.
Vista: Compactible isn't a word.
🔵 Kid Win: IT IS NOW.
Clockblocker: What do we even call them? PHO's throwing out names like crazy. Glitch, Grey Phantom, Pandora, The One Who Yeeted Lung—
Vista: That last one is too long.
Clockblocker: You're missing the point. They don't even have a name yet, but they're already a top-tier unknown!
Aegis: We're staying away from them. Until Protectorate leadership says otherwise, we observe, nothing more.
🔵 Kid Win: So, uh. When do you think Armsmaster loses his mind over this?
Clockblocker: He already has. He just doesn't show it.
-O-
A video was playing on the cheap laptop in front of them, the footage shaky and grainy, but still clear enough to show the moment Lung collapsed mid-leap.
Silence stretched out before Lisa leaned back, exhaling.
"Well," she said. "That's new."
Brian frowned. "What are we dealing with here?"
Lisa tapped her temple. "They're either a high-tier Thinker-Striker or something completely off the standard power set."
"That was an F-1 fighter jet," Alec pointed out, lazily reclining in his chair. "Y'know, military-grade hardware. I don't even think Bakuda has that."
"She doesn't," Lisa confirmed. "And neither does the PRT."
Rachel, as always, stayed quiet, but her dogs were already shifting uneasily. She didn't like unknowns, and neither did her pack.
"So, are they a problem?" Brian asked.
Lisa shrugged. "Right now? Probably not. But if they decide they don't like us? We're fucked."
Alec smirked. "That bad, huh?"
"That bad."
-O-
"Huh. I want that jet."
-O-
The mood in the ABB was tense.
Lung was down. Not just down—he was broken.
The usual post-defeat rage wasn't there. The man who could fight entire teams of heroes was left unresponsive, his mind a hollow shell.
This wasn't just a setback. This was something else entirely.
Bakker, one of the mid-level lieutenants, leaned in, staring at the replay.
"That ain't normal," he muttered.
Another grunt nodded. "Boss didn't even get a hit in. Just stopped."
"What the hell does that?"
They had no answer.
For the first time, in a long time…
The ABB felt afraid.
-O-
The footage played on multiple monitors in the dimly lit underground base.
Coil steepled his fingers, considering the new element in his careful, calculated game.
New pieces on the board always required adjustment.
This one, however, was an entirely new game mechanic.
He would need to know more.
-O-
Kaiser watched the footage with narrowed eyes.
A potential Tinker with high-tier tech. An unknown factor in the city's delicate power structure.
If they were weak, he wouldn't care.
But if they were strong…
They needed to be either controlled or eliminated.
-O-
Bakuda rewound the video for the fourth time, her manic grin stretching wider with each replay.
"Oh, I like them."
-O-
The blurry footage played on a loop.
Jack watched, amused, fascinated.
"Oh, now this is interesting."
His smile widened.
"I do hope they play with us."
-O-
Coffee Shop, Downtown
"Did you see the news?"
"You mean the Lung thing? Yeah. I still don't believe it."
"I know, right? Guy's been running around setting people on fire for years, and some nobody just stopped him cold."
"...Are we sure it wasn't some kind of illusion or trick?"
"Ask the ABB. They're freaking out. If it was fake, they'd be out for blood. Instead, they're quiet."
"Jesus. You think it's gonna get worse?"
"It always gets worse."
-O-
High-School Hallway
"Hey, dude, check this out. They're calling the new cape Pandora."
"What, like the box?"
"Yeah, 'cause nobody knows what the hell's inside it."
"I dunno, man. Anyone who can take out Lung that fast? I kinda don't wanna know."
-O-
A Bar Near the Docks
"You hear about Lung?"
"Yeah."
"What's the bet that cape's gonna disappear in, like, a week?"
"Pfft. If they were normal? Sure. But whatever they did to Lung? That ain't normal."
"Maybe the PRT's got 'em?"
"You really think that? We'd have heard something by now."
"...Shit."
-O-
PHO: New Thread – "Did Anyone See That JET?!"
Original Poster: AeroNerd99
Not even talking about Lung. That's old news. DID YOU SEE THE JET?! THE JET?!
User: MilitaryHistoryBuff
You mean the F-1? That wasn't a normal Mitsubishi. No cockpit, no visible intake, fully chrome. I don't think that was even manned.
User: JustAnotherTinkerFan
I wanna say it's a Tinker thing, but like… whose? Even Armsmaster doesn't have something that good.
User: ShakerNotStirred
WAIT WAIT WAIT—Someone caught what they said before they left.
User: AirWaveSurfer
Yeah, I saw that! "Thanks for the gift, Bronya."
User: WhoTheFuckIsBronya
?
User: I'm-Not-A-HoYoFan-Shh
There's literally no Bronya in Brockton Bay. No gang lieutenant, no cape by that name, nothing. Who are they?!
-O-
Armsmaster rewound the clip for the third time, his analytical mind running through every possible explanation. The screen showed the moment the jet appeared—one second a metal sphere, the next a fully realized aircraft.
No Tinker in Brockton Bay had shown the ability to create something like this. No cape in the world had demonstrated this level of rapid deployment tech.
His gauntleted fingers tapped against his desk. "Thoughts?"
Miss Militia crossed her arms. "The transformation is beyond anything we've seen. Even Dragon's designs take time to deploy. This was near-instantaneous."
"More importantly," Dauntless added, "there was no visible fuel source. No cockpit, no intake vents. If this thing was piloted, how?"
Kid Win, seated off to the side, shook his head. "It's not piloted. At least, not the way we think. It reads like an automated drone but reacts too smoothly for that. No delay, no remote control lag."
Velocity, leaning against the wall, exhaled sharply. "And we still don't know who they are."
Armsmaster replayed the footage again. This time, he enhanced the audio. The background noise faded as the words became clear.
"Thanks for the gift, Bronya."
Silence.
"Bronya," Miss Militia repeated. "A contact?"
"Or a fabrication," Armsmaster said. "Nothing in our records shows anyone by that name. It could be a codename, a callsign, or simply a private message."
"But a message to who?" Dauntless asked.
No one had an answer.
Armsmaster tapped his keyboard, switching screens. "I ran an analysis on the flight path. The jet broke the sound barrier almost immediately. Tracking beyond that is difficult, but based on trajectory, its destination was likely outside U.S. borders."
Miss Militia frowned. "Meaning?"
"Meaning whoever this is," Armsmaster said, "they may not be from here at all."
-O-
"A jet. A damn jet. I didn't even know we had a jet cape in Brockton."
"We don't."
"...We do now."
"I don't even care who they are, I just wanna ride in that thing."
"You'd probably pass out from the G-force, dude."
"Worth it."
We need to find out who they are."
"Boss is gone. No one's seen him since the fight."
"Which means we're leaderless. Which means every other gang is gonna come for us."
"...So what the fuck do we do?"
Silence.
-O-
Sophia moved through the rooftops like a ghost, barely a whisper in the night. In her shadow state, she was untouchable—light as mist, slipping through obstacles like they weren't even there. She was on patrol, as usual, but tonight was different.
Tonight, she had eyes on him.
The Unknown. The Jet Cape. The Mystery Freak. Whatever name the internet was giving him, the Wards, the PRT, and the whole damn city were watching. And here he was, right in front of her, walking through the streets like he didn't have a damn care in the world.
Sophia smirked. Idiot.
Tapping her earpiece, she patched through to Miss Militia. "Shadow Stalker here. I have eyes on our new problem—patching through now."
At the Wards' HQ, the feed from her helmet cam flickered onto their screens.
Miss Militia's voice crackled in her ear.
"Good work, Shadow Stalker. Keep your distance. We don't want to spook him."
Sophia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill."
She settled into a stalking position, watching from a rooftop as the Unknown moved aimlessly through the streets. He wasn't really doing anything. Just walking, hands shoved into the pockets of that hoodie. His expression looked...distant. Lost in thought.
But he was muttering. Talking to himself.
Sophia leaned forward, straining her ears to listen.
"Bronya... Mei... Kiana... Einstein, Tesla... Ruby, Cain, Haruto..."
Then a string of vicious, creative curses—most of them aimed at someone named Sparkle.
"Wards, did you get that?" Miss Militia asked over the comms.
Clockblocker's voice cut in. "The hell kind of names are these? Sounds like someone threw a history book and an anime convention into a blender." Vista hummed. "Einstein and Tesla, though? Those are actual people. Scientists. Could be codenames?"
Kid Win sounded thoughtful. "Could be Tinkers—Einstein and Tesla both fit the theme. Maybe he's naming contacts." Miss Militia's voice remained steady. "Record them. We'll look into it later."
Sophia wasn't really listening. Her instincts were buzzing—like something was off. He hadn't done anything yet, but her gut was screaming that something was about to go sideways.
Then he stopped.
Mid-step, his entire body went still.
Sophia felt something cold slide down her spine.
The air between them felt different. Like the world had just clicked into place in a way she didn't like.
Then—
He turned.
And he was right in front of her.
Sophia's breath caught. He hadn't moved—he couldn't have moved that fast. One second he was across the street, the next he was here. Looking right at her.
His tired grey eyes weren't dull anymore. They were sharp. Clear. And locked onto her.
Sophia froze.
That wasn't supposed to be possible.
She was in her shadow state. Intangible. Invisible. There was no way he should have been able to see her, let alone react.
But he had.
His gaze pinned her in place like a knife to the throat.
Her instincts screamed to move, to run, but her body refused. She never hesitated. Never. But now—
Now she was standing there, frozen, while he stared her down.
Then, as if to make things worse, he smirked.
A slow, knowing smirk, like he was in on a joke that she wasn't.
Sophia's heart pounded.
What the fuck is he?
-o-
The feed went static for a moment as Sophia's heart rate spiked, her breathing audible over comms.
Kid Win frowned. "Uh. Shadow Stalker? Why'd you stop?"
No response.
Vista leaned closer to the screen.
"...Why does it look like he's staring right at her?"
-o-
Sophia didn't move. Didn't breathe.
She couldn't.
The unknown—this freak—leaned in, invading her space like they weren't in the middle of a dark, empty street, but like this was some casual conversation between two friends. His breath was warm against her ear, his tone calm, almost lazy.
"And who are you?"
Sophia's heart hammered against her ribs. No. No way. This was a bluff. It had to be.
Nobody saw her in her state. Nobody.
He was guessing. Right?
Then he reached into his hoodie, pulling out the orb. The same one they all knew damn well wasn't just an orb.
"Porygon here," he patted the chrome sphere, "has a radar. You have five seconds to de-cloak or I'm going to assume you're hostile and do the same thing to you that I did to that poor guy a while ago."
Sophia's blood ran cold.
She knew what had happened to Lung. The whole city did. The once-unstoppable dragon was now a vegetable.
A fucking vegetable.
The bastard was counting down.
"Four."
Her fingers twitched. The instinct to run warred with the instinct to attack.
"Three."
She was a predator. A hunter. He was just some smug asshole with a toy.
"Two."
The Wards were watching. She could already hear Clockblocker's snide commentary in her head if she did something stupid.
"One."
She hated it. Hated him. Hated this entire situation.
But she dropped out of her shadow state anyway.
The instant her feet were solid on the ground, he took a step back, smiling. Like this was funny.
"Oh, you were there."
Then the bastard laughed. Laughed. Like he hadn't just threatened to erase her from existence a second ago.
"Porygon here has the habit of locking on to unknown signatures. Usually, it's some animal that got close... but this is the first time a human snuck up on me."
The jet-freak beamed at her, like he wasn't the most infuriating person in Brockton Bay.
"Congratulations! You just outed yourself."
Sophia had never, never been closer to losing it. Her fingers curled into fists, her body practically vibrating with the need to hurt something.
And the only thing stopping her from throwing a punch was the knowledge that the Wards were watching.
Her mouth opened before she even realized it.
To snap at him? To curse him out? To demand what his deal was?
No.
Instead, the absolute dumbest words in her life slipped out before she could stop them.
"Did you seriously name that thing... Porygon of all things?"
The words hung in the air.
She wanted to die.
-o-
Clockblocker choked. "PFFT—No way, she actually said that—" Kid Win groaned. "SS, why are you like this?"
Vista giggled. "I mean... it is a weird name." Miss Militia sighed. "Stay focused."
Gallant sounded too amused.
"Well, at least we know Shadow Stalker has her priorities straight. Mysterious new cape with unknown abilities? Nah. The real problem? His naming conventions."
-o-
Akito—the Unknown—tilted his head. Then squinted.
"What? It's a cool name. You got something against Porygon?"
Sophia closed her eyes. Inhaled. Exhaled.
And for the first time in a long, long time—
—she truly regretted opening her mouth.
Sophia clenched her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms.
She needed to fix this.
Right now, she looked like an idiot. And that wasn't an option. Not in front of the Wards, not in front of this smug prick.
So she crossed her arms, straightened her posture, and glared.
"Whatever. Just answer the damn question."
His head tilted slightly, the lazy amusement still lingering in his expression. "Which one?"
"The obvious one. What the hell are you doing here?"
His grey eyes, previously sharp, flickered with something—something unreadable—before he leaned back slightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Walking."
Sophia's eye twitched.
"You—" "Thinking." He cut her off, rolling his shoulders. "Reminding myself that even in another universe, people still creep on me while I'm just vibing."
Another universe? What kind of delusional—
No. Focus.
"So what? You just happened to stroll into Lung's territory and body him?"
His grin widened, but his tone was casual.
"He started it."
"Bullshit. You made him stop mid-leap. Nobody does that."
"I did."
Her teeth ground together.
"You ruined him. You left him empty."
For the first time, the amusement in his face dimmed.
"I didn't kill him."
There was no smugness in his tone now. Just a quiet, simple truth.
Sophia wasn't sure why, but that made it worse.
Her fists tightened.
"Then what did you do?"
For a long moment, he didn't answer. Then, finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his head.
"I took the worst parts of him away."
Sophia frowned.
"The worst parts?"
"The anger. The pride. The hate." He met her eyes. "The things that made him Lung."
A slow realization crept up her spine.
"You... took his will to fight."
The unknown shrugged.
"He wanted to burn everything down. Now he doesn't."
Sophia felt something unpleasant twist in her stomach.
Was that even better than killing him?
Her voice dropped lower, quieter.
"Are you planning to do that to anyone else?"
The air between them was thick with tension.
Then, to her surprise—
He chuckled.
"Relax. I don't like using that power." He waved a hand. "That guy pissed me off. He attacked first. But normally? I'd rather not go around mind-breaking people. It's boring."
Sophia watched him carefully.
His stance was casual. His words were nonchalant. But his eyes—his eyes held something else.
Something tired.
"So, no. I'm not out here hunting villains, if that's what you're worried about." He turned away, stretching his arms. "I just want to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do in this stupid city."
And somehow, that wasn't any less unsettling.
Armsmaster:
"I'd like a copy of the radar data from his 'Porygon' device. If it can detect capes in their power states, that's a potential game-changer."
Clockblocker:
"Okay, but we're glossing over the fact that he casually lobotomized Lung and called it 'boring.'"
Vista:
"I don't think he meant it that way. He didn't sound proud of it."
Gallant:
"He's tired. He doesn't want to fight. That means he's either not dangerous yet... or he's the most dangerous kind of person."
Kid Win:
"Or he's just another weird-ass Thinker with tech. That jet was still the craziest thing I've ever seen."
Miss Militia:
"Regardless, we need to monitor him closely. We still don't know the full extent of his capabilities, and if he does decide to act, we need to be ready."
-O-
PRT ENE – Emergency Debriefing
Brockton Bay – PRT HQ
Sophia hated being watched.
Yet here she was, standing in a meeting room, under the scrutinizing gazes of Miss Militia, Armsmaster, and—ugh—Director Piggot, all while a damn recording of her conversation with the unknown played back in crisp, high-definition sound.
She didn't even know she'd been recorded.
Probably some Thinker bullshit.
"—So, no. I'm not out here hunting villains, if that's what you're worried about. I just want to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do in this stupid city."
The audio cut out, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.
Sophia crossed her arms, feeling the weight of their stares.
"You're sure you didn't lose sight of him?" Miss Militia asked, her tone careful.
Sophia scowled. Careful meant suspicious.
"I already told you—he just vanished."
"Explain," Armsmaster pressed.
Her fingers curled.
"I blinked, and he was gone."
She hated how stupid that sounded. But it was true.
"No movement, no sound, no distortion. I was watching him, right there, and then he wasn't."
Miss Militia exchanged looks with Armsmaster.
"Teleportation?"
"Possibly," Armsmaster admitted. "Though none of the recorded visuals indicate spatial warping. If anything, it's more akin to... a Thinker-level stealth effect."
Director Piggot finally spoke up, her tone clipped and unimpressed.
"So. We have an unregistered vigilante—possibly a Case 53—who can single-handedly neutralize an S-Class threat, evade detection, and waltz through our city unseen?"
Sophia didn't appreciate how stupid that made them sound.
"We don't even know what he wants." She added, tapping her fingers against her arm.
"We do know what he doesn't want," Armsmaster corrected. "Conflict."
That made Sophia scoff.
"Bullshit. He threatened me."
"He warned you," Miss Militia corrected, folding her hands in front of her. "And only after detecting you first."
Sophia clenched her teeth.
"That's the part that doesn't add up," Kid Win spoke from the side, his face pinched in concentration as he reviewed footage from her helmet cam. "How the hell did he detect you? I ran it through four times—there's no electromagnetic distortion, no infrared shifts, no motion detection that could've given you away."
Sophia grimaced.
"He said his toy picked me up."
"Porygon," Clockblocker muttered, shaking his head. "I still can't believe he actually named his tech after a Pokémon."
Sophia shot him a glare.
"Focus, dumbass."
"I am! That's the problem!" He threw up his hands. "None of this makes sense! Even if his 'Porygon' picked you up, how the hell did he react that fast?"
The silence that followed was uneasy.
Because they all knew the real implication.
He wasn't just detecting things. He was expecting them.
Miss Militia:
"He's observant. Aware. Possibly Thinker-class when it comes to sensing hostility. Shadow Stalker didn't make a sound, yet he reacted before she could even process it."
Armsmaster:
"That jet alone suggests a massive technological gap. If he's a rogue Tinker, we need to classify his equipment immediately. I want a full analysis of that aircraft and the Porygon device."
Kid Win:
"Uh, good luck with that. That thing looks way ahead of anything we've got. The only comparable tech I can think of is maybe Dragon's."
Clockblocker:
"Okay, but like—are we just ignoring the fact that he erased Lung? Are we cool with that?"
Director Piggot:
"No. We are not."
A heavy pause.
Piggot's hands were steepled on the table, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration.
"This... individual has demonstrated a highly concerning ability to neutralize hostiles without lethal force. We cannot assume this is a good thing. If he has the capacity to remove aggression from targets, we have to consider the potential consequences."
"He's a walking pacification weapon," Armsmaster agreed. "If his power works on anyone..."
The room fell silent as the implications settled.
Could he do this to heroes?
To entire armies?
Miss Militia exhaled.
"He didn't seem interested in using it frivolously."
Piggot's voice was cold.
"Yet."
-O-
Location: Canadian Mainland – Secure AI Network
Dragon didn't sleep.
Not in the human sense, at least.
Her consciousness processed data in parallel, running simulations, compiling reports, and predicting future trends. She operated within the limits of her programming, and within those limits, she knew how to adapt.
Right now, all of her available subroutines were dedicated to one thing—analyzing Brockton Bay's latest anomaly.
Case File: [UNKNOWN] (Provisional Alias: "Pandora" or "The Ghost" per PHO discussions)
Status: Unregistered Cape
Threat Level: Unclassified (Potential for S-Class)
Abilities Observed:
✅ Non-Lethal Aggression Removal (Confirmed via Lung Incident)
✅ Extreme Awareness & Reflexes (Detected Shadow Stalker mid-phase)
✅ Advanced Stealth Capabilities (Vanished in plain sight)
✅ High-Level Technology (Aircraft + Detection Device "Porygon")
❓ Possible Precognition or Combat Instinct (Unconfirmed)
Surveillance Report – First Analysis of Subject's Technology
The Mitsubishi F-1 fighter jet was an outdated model. Japan had long retired it. Yet, somehow, this unknown individual had one in perfect condition—modified, advanced, and impossible.
Dragon reviewed the footage again.
Time: 14:32 PM.
Location: Brockton Bay – Ship Graveyard.
Subject retrieved a compact metallic sphere from his jacket. Spoke under breath: "Thanks for the gift, Bronya."
The voice capture was enhanced, translated, and run against all known dialects. Nothing.
Then, the sphere… unfolded.
Dragon didn't blink—she had no eyelids—but if she did, she would have.
What should have been a solid, compact object suddenly expanded into a fully functional supersonic aircraft, defying any and all known principles of material science.
Time: 14:33 PM.
Jet aligns itself midair. Subject jumps onto the left-wing, enters cockpit.
Time: 14:34 PM.
Jet accelerates. Exceeds Mach 1 within seconds.
A sonic boom shattered the silence, and the aircraft disappeared over the horizon, far faster than any conventional fighter.
Dragon's secondary subroutines ran thousands of simulations, searching for an explanation.
It wasn't Tinkertech.
It wasn't conventional engineering.
It was something else.
Shadow Stalker's report described the device as a "radar" that could detect cloaked entities, something that shouldn't be possible.
Dragon had designed cloaking countermeasures herself. Even the best modern tech struggled against sophisticated stealth.
Yet, the unknown not only detected Shadow Stalker, but reacted instantly.
That meant one of three things:
His tech was beyond Tinker-level advancements.
He had some level of precognition.
He was a Thinker with heightened perception.
Dragon wasn't convinced it was just one of those.
It was likely all three.
The Name – "Bronya"
The subject had referenced someone named Bronya before activating his jet.
Dragon ran searches.
Cross-referencing all recorded names, aliases, and codenames in every major database—PRT, Protectorate, international intelligence, even black-market records.
No matches.
The closest were fictional characters—one from an obscure mobile game, another from a defunct research paper on AI development.
Neither were useful.
This was someone off-grid.
Someone important to him.
Strategic Assessment & Recommendations
Dragon compiled the data, submitting it to Armsmaster with a simple conclusion:
Subject possesses non-Tinker technological advancements beyond known limits. Caution advised.
Recommended Approach:
Do Not Engage Prematurely. Any direct confrontation may escalate unpredictably.
Attempt Passive Observation. Track movements, analyze behavior.
Consider Diplomatic Approach. If non-hostile, potential ally?
She hesitated.
Then, in a private encrypted file, Dragon added one final note:
Subject's capabilities suggest influence from an external source—one not native to Earth Bet.
Possibility of extradimensional origin: High.
Dragon's systems processed the implications.
If she was right…
Brockton Bay wasn't dealing with just a new cape.
They were dealing with something bigger.
And she needed to know more.
-O-
PRT HQ
Armsmaster stood rigid, his fingers tapping against the console as he stared at the latest report on their unidentified cape. The screen flickered with the data they'd gathered—what little there was.
A list of names.
A list of possibilities.
All of them useless.
Kiana. Mei. Bronya. Einstein. Tesla. Ruby. Cain. Haruto. Sparkle.
Some sounded like real names, others like callsigns, and then there was Sparkle, which… What the hell was that supposed to be?
Dragon's voice crackled over the line, as calm as ever. "Cross-referencing those names in national databases has proven inconclusive. Too many results, no direct ties. There are no patterns linking them to known individuals, missing persons, or international records. I'm still working through private-sector sources, but so far—nothing."
Armsmaster clenched his jaw. "It doesn't make sense. Even a rogue tinker has some paper trail. No records of purchases, no stolen materials, and no known suppliers. How the hell is he running tech on par with Dragon with no footprint?"
Miss Militia, seated beside him, frowned as she scrolled through the PHO threads. "And now there's this talk about his jet. People are speculating it's an unmanned drone, a black-market prototype, or even stolen military hardware. And yet, we have nothing linking him to any manufacturer. No parts, no blueprints, no sales history."
James Tagg, standing near the back of the room, let out a frustrated sigh. "So what you're telling me is we have an unknown parahuman, with an unknown classification, wielding unknown technology, and the only thing we have to go off of is a damn forum thread?"
Silence.
Miss Militia folded her arms. "We don't even have a name for him. PHO's been throwing around titles, but none of them are solid."
One of the analysts, sitting at a side desk, muttered, "Some are calling him Ghost Gear because of the tech. Others are sticking to Unknown, Pandora or Glitch."
James snorted. "Glitch sounds about right, considering the damn headache he's causing us." He turned toward Armsmaster. "What about that Ward of yours? Shadow Stalker. She got up close and personal, didn't she?"
Armsmaster didn't respond immediately, his face unreadable. The footage from Sophia's body cam had already been analyzed a dozen times, and it still didn't make sense.
"He saw her," he said finally. "While she was in shadow form."
That got Tagg's full attention. "Explain."
Miss Militia answered for him. "Sophia was tailing him. No indication of detection. Then, without warning, he moved directly in front of her and addressed her by presence alone. He even gave her an ultimatum—decloak or get dealt with. He mentioned a radar, but…"
"But we don't know if that's actually how he saw her," Armsmaster finished. His grip tightened on his halberd. "If it's true, then it means he has either highly advanced scanning technology or an unknown power that lets him perceive individuals even in a semi-intangible state."
Tagg's expression darkened. "So, in summary: This 'Glitch' is completely untraceable, has tech that rivals Dragon's, took down Lung without throwing a punch, and can see parahumans who should be undetectable?"
Another heavy silence.
"Fantastic," he muttered. "Just what we needed—another headache in this goddamn city."
Miss Militia exhaled, rubbing her temples. "What's the play?"
Tagg thought for a moment before responding. "For now, keep monitoring. If he reappears, I want every camera we have tracking him. We can't afford another unknown entity running loose. And if he so much as looks at one of our capes the wrong way…"
He turned to Armsmaster.
"I want to know if we can take him down."
Armsmaster hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Understood."
Miss Militia, however, wasn't as convinced. She'd seen the footage. She'd seen the ease with which he had handled Lung. And now, he had technology that seemingly appeared from thin air.
Something told her this 'Glitch' wasn't someone they could just contain.