Rain began to fall. Light, at first. Then heavier, as if the sky itself mourned the coming violence.
Isamu leapt down from the catwalk with the grace of a warrior and the presence of a storm. Clad in dark armor reinforced by cursed steel, his eyes burned crimson. His aura pulsed with hatred, but beneath it, something more complex—something human—lingered.
Rei stepped forward, removing the worn cloak from his shoulders. His transformation had faded. Now he stood not as a god, but as a man—a man reborn.
"You're stronger now," Isamu said, cracking his neck.
"You didn't kill me that night," Rei replied. "Why?"
Isamu smirked, but the expression faltered. "Killing isn't always necessary."
Rei clenched his fists. "Then stop running and face what you are."
A gust of wind slammed through the open warehouse as the first blow was struck. Isamu moved like a blur, drawing his blade with a whistle of steel. Rei dodged, sliding low, his elbow crashing into Isamu's ribs. Isamu staggered back, but barely flinched.
They clashed again—flesh against steel, grit against power. Isamu's strikes were precise and heavy, shaped by experience and tragedy. Rei, however, fought with pure instinct—fluid, adaptable, and fiercely human.
"You fight like someone who has nothing to lose," Isamu growled.
Rei ducked under a swing, countering with a blinding burst of light that cracked across Isamu's armor. "I fight for those who still live."
Isamu roared, charging. He unleashed a flurry of dark magic, each blast narrowly missing Rei as he weaved through the barrage. Sparks and flame erupted, shaking the warehouse's foundation.
Blood sprayed—Rei's shoulder was sliced. He didn't slow. He summoned a blade of divine light and threw it. Isamu deflected it with his own cursed weapon, but the force sent him sprawling.
Panting, Isamu stood. "You still don't get it. This world doesn't change by mercy."
"And it won't change through slaughter," Rei answered, eyes hardening. "You had a choice."
Isamu's blade darkened, absorbing the pain of every soul he'd taken. "And you had a chance to die with your ideals intact."
The next exchange was brutal. Their punches broke bone. Magic shattered crates and cracked concrete. They slammed each other into walls, grappled mid-air, and fell through the rafters, colliding with the dock's support beams.
Rei's eye swelled. Isamu's hand bled from fractured fingers. But still, they fought.
Rei struck with a final pulse of light, embedding his fist into Isamu's chest. The cursed armor cracked. Isamu staggered, but twisted, plunging a dagger into Rei's ribs.
Both dropped to their knees.
Heavy breaths. Rain soaking into broken skin. And silence.
Isamu looked at Rei—his voice, a whisper. "If I had met you sooner..."
Rei, bleeding, nodded. "Maybe then, we'd have fought side by side."
Isamu collapsed.
Rei didn't kill him. He simply passed out. Rei stood, shaking, broken—but alive. The storm continued to fall as he turned back toward the warehouse, where his team waited.
He had won.
But it didn't feel like victory.
Rei's divine aura flickered—his golden form barely holding together from exhaustion. Isamu, bloodied and breathing heavily, stood with cracked armor, yet a proud grin painted his face.
Just as Rei was about to deliver a final blow—or maybe drop his arms—a sudden gust sliced through the battlefield.
SHRRRK!
A blade of wind shot past Rei's shoulder. Isamu's eyes widened. Blood burst from his chest.
"ISAMU!" Rei shouted, turning around in shock.
From the shadows, Ash walked forward, his eyes dark, face emotionless, his sword dripping with crimson.
"What did you do?!" Rei yelled, catching Isamu as he collapsed.
Ash didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the dying elite, who coughed, blood splattering Rei's divine robes.
"He was already broken," Ash said, coldly. "A killer. A commander of hunters. You hesitated. I didn't."
Rei clenched his fists. "He didn't try to kill me. He wasn't like the others."
Ash took another step forward. "You don't get to decide that. Every second we let someone like him breathe, more heroes die. Drax died because we hesitated before. I won't again."
"You're not God!" Rei shouted. "You don't get to judge who deserves to live or die!"
Ash's eyes softened for a moment—but only a flicker.
"Maybe not," he said. "But someone has to take responsibility."
Isamu, fading, raised his hand slightly, barely able to speak. "He's… right…"
Rei's eyes watered. "You don't have to die like this…"
Isamu smiled faintly. "Maybe this… is freedom…"
With one final breath, Isamu's hand fell. His eyes stared up at the cloudy sky—silent, still.
Rei trembled. The divine glow around him vanished.
Ash turned away.
"Let's go," he said. "We still have others to stop."
Rei didn't follow. Not right away.
He sat beside the fallen man who, in another life, might've been a hero too.
In hotel room
The room at the abandoned safehouse was dim, lit only by a flickering lamp and the silence that followed war.
Everyone was there—Kaien by the window, arms crossed. Misaki tending to Koharu's wounds. Luna sat near the door, unusually quiet. Ash leaned against the wall, his sword still sheathed but presence sharp.
Rei entered last.
His shoulders were heavy. His god-like glow was gone. Just a boy again.
Naoto looked up first. "You did well," he said flatly. "Isamu is dead. That's one less elite threatening the city."
Rei didn't respond.
Ash stood straighter. "That was the mission, Rei. We stop the Hero Hunters. No exceptions."
Misaki hesitated. "Ash…"
"No," Ash said firmly. "You all saw what they did. How many more heroes have to die before we stop feeling sorry for monsters?"
Koharu added gently, "He was different, Rei. But we can't afford to make that mistake again."
"I know what I saw," Rei said quietly. His voice cracked. "He could've killed me. He didn't. He wanted peace. I felt it."
"But he still chose their side," Kaien said, walking forward. "And maybe… that was his mistake."
Rei looked around. All eyes were on him—some cold, some kind, but none agreeing with him.
Luna spoke up softly. "It's okay to feel sad, Rei. But this war isn't about what we feel. It's about survival."
Rei's fists tightened. "Then what makes us different from them?"
Silence.
No one answered.
Naoto finally broke it. "Rest. We move at dawn. We're closing in on their main base. And we'll need everyone focused."
Everyone began to disperse, heading to corners of the room, grabbing weapons or first aid.
But Rei stood still, eyes downcast.
Only Misaki stayed behind, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You tried. That matters, even if no one says it."
Rei nodded weakly.
But deep down, the question still burned:
"Are we heroes, or just better killers?"
Deep within the underground hideout of the Hero Hunters, a heavy silence cloaked the main hall. The scent of dust and metal lingered in the air, but the weight pressing on the soldiers' chests wasn't from the iron walls—it was grief.
Word had reached them.
Isamu was dead.
The fifth elite.
A man of strange kindness in a den of wolves.
Inside the command chamber.
"He didn't even like fighting…" one soldier said, slamming his fist against the wall.
"He always said killing wasn't strength. That strength was… protecting even your enemies."
"I don't believe it," growled another. "That bastard didn't die in some brawl. He was smart, precise. He wouldn't go down like that."
A woman leaned against the table, tears in her eyes. "He saved me once. I wasn't even a ranked member back then. Some idiot had me lined up for execution because I failed a mission. Isamu stepped in. Said... 'She's not a weapon. She's a person.'"
The room grew quiet again.
A tall man stepped forward—one of the remaining elite. His jaw clenched, his eyes red but unblinking.
"He never killed," the man said. "Not once. That was his rule. He fought. He defended. But he never crossed the line."
He looked up, voice like thunder through a storm.
"Don't let his death be in vain."
The others stood straighter.
"Don't let the so-called heroes twist our image."
"We are not savages. We are survivors."
"For Isamu."
They raised their fists, some with trembling fingers, others with fury burning behind their eyes.
But they all knew one thing now.
The war had changed.
This wasn't just revenge.
This was personal.
In hotel room
The air in the safehouse was heavy with tension.
Maps lay scattered across the large table in the center of the room, red markers indicating possible hideouts, supply routes, and enemy paths. The team surrounded it, their expressions focused—but their hearts were fractured.
Kaien stood at the head, arms folded, voice steady. "We move at dawn. Our goal is clear: locate the main Hero Hunter base and eliminate any resistance. We can't afford to hold back."
Ash leaned over the table, tapping a marker. "This path through the southern canal is narrow. I'll go ahead first and clear it. I don't need backup."
"You'll have backup," Koharu said sternly, eyes shadowed by exhaustion. "No more solo missions, not after what happened to Drax."
Ash looked away, jaw clenched.
Naoto Yatsuki adjusted his gloves in the corner. "There's no time for emotional hesitation. We've lost good people. If we don't end this now, we'll lose more."
Everyone turned to Rei.
But Rei said nothing.
He sat near the window, hands folded, staring out into the dim sky. The golden light of the setting sun brushed his face—but his eyes were distant, lost somewhere between memory and guilt.
Misaki stepped closer. "Rei… are you okay?"
No answer.
Kaien frowned. "Rei, we need your power in the field. This isn't the time to hesitate."
"I know," Rei finally whispered. "I'll be there."
But his voice lacked strength. His heart wasn't with them.
Because all he could see was Isamu's eyes in those final seconds. The shock. The silence. The unanswered question: Why?
Ash noticed his stillness and scoffed. "Don't tell me you're still grieving for that bastard."
"Shut up, Ash," Luna snapped. "You don't know what happened out there."
"Rei, speak," Naoto said, colder than ever. "Were his last words important? Did he beg for mercy?"
"No," Rei said quietly. "He just… stood there. He accepted it."
And that was what tore at Rei's soul the most.
The fact that Isamu—enemy or not—had accepted death without fighting back.
Koharu came to Rei's side and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We're with you. Whatever you're thinking… you're not alone."
Rei didn't respond.
Because deep down, he wondered something terrible.
Was he on the wrong side?