August 28 2042–Ultra City–Daytime.
The heroes were constantly on the move, sweeping through every nook and cranny of Ultra City—desperate for leads, any clue that might point them toward the ones behind the chaos.
But nothing came.
No trails. No whispers. Just silence… and growing tension.
Distrust had begun to choke the city like a smog. Civilians no longer followed orders as they once did. Protests erupted. Street voices grew louder with anger.
"Why obey laws when those sworn to uphold them are the traitors?" they shouted.
The line between protector and oppressor blurred. Earlier that day, the Hero Squad had to break up a violent clash between enraged civilians and the remaining police force—what many were now calling a "mug war."
Order was cracking. And the city… was beginning to rot from within.
---
After the heroes broke up the mug war—which, unfortunately, left several civilians injured—they returned to their base, weary and burdened. The atmosphere inside the war room was heavy, each of them silently replaying the chaos they had just witnessed.
"This city's turned into a madhouse," Tyler muttered, slumping into his seat.
"He's not wrong," Derick added, arms folded. "Ever since we became heroes, it's been one disaster after another. Chaos keeps finding us."
Rudy frowned. "What are you trying to say?"
Max leaned forward. "I think what Derick's trying to say is... maybe we're the problem."
The room fell silent.
Sage broke the stillness. "You're wrong, Mr. Derick. This city's always been like this. It just needed the right trigger."
"Spot on, Sage," Jakson said, nodding. "I think this is just coincidence—maybe a messy one, but still coincidence."
In the corner, Timothy sat quietly, lost in thought. His eyes stared blankly at the center of the table, but inside, his mind was a storm.
Everything feels empty... I thought building a team would help preserve the last bits of peace in this city. But now? It's all falling apart. Why do I feel so useless? I promised to protect this city, and now I'm watching it crumble. I've failed as a leader… but if I could just understand what's really happening—maybe I'll find a sliver of hope.
Timothy finally looked up, his voice low but steady.
"I know we're all thinking this might be our fault. And maybe I haven't been the leader you all deserve… but I'm begging you—let's keep fighting. This city still has something left to save."
Raymond stepped forward. "You're not a failure, Timothy. You've been nothing but excellent. If you're a failure, then what does that make the rest of us? You left the city in our care—and we're the ones who let it fall apart."
Larry nodded. "Raymond's right. We messed things up. But the ones who caused this? We'll find them. And we'll fix this. Together."
A moment of silence hung in the air—then a faint smile broke across Timothy's face.
For just a moment… hope flickered.
---
Later that day…
The comms buzzed sharply, breaking the silence in the base.
"Hello? Can anyone hear me? This is Commander Layla. I need everyone gathered—now."
Within minutes, the Hero Squad assembled in the command room, tension already in the air.
"What's going on, Commander?" Timothy asked, his tone calm but urgent.
Layla's voice came through the speaker, laced with urgency. "Something's happening in the Desert Lands. We don't have the full details yet, but I need your team to mobilize immediately."
Raymond frowned. "With all due respect, Commander, the Desert Lands aren't our jurisdiction. We're already dealing with chaos here. Can't another squad handle it?"
"I understand your concern, Raymond," Layla replied. "But your base is the closest to the eastern border. We can't afford to wait for others to arrive. Whatever's going on out there—it's escalating fast."
There was a beat of silence as the team exchanged glances.
Timothy gave a firm nod. "Understood, Commander. We'll head out immediately."
The Desert Lands…
The winds howled like spirits in agony. Grit and sand battered their suits, blurring their vision. The sky was dim, as though a storm was brooding in the heavens.
"This is a desert, right?" Larry (Hi-Tech) muttered, flicking rapidly through readings on his wristpad. "Because it feels like we just walked into an energy field."
"This doesn't seem like natural weather to me," Max (Superbolt) added, narrowing his eyes.
"Whether it's weather or not," Timothy (Vilex) said, stepping forward with resolve, "we're moving in."
Elsewhere in the desert…
A cloaked figure emerged from the storm, approaching a colossal black throne planted atop a dune. Al-Daeem sat regally, draped in dark royal armor. Beside him stood four deadly figures: Sun, Wukong, Drain, and Skull—his elite enforcers. A spectral display hovered before them, showing the approaching Hero Squad.
Back on the ground…
Jakson (Blaze) pointed ahead. "What are those things?"
"Statues?" Rudy (Dark Flame) guessed, his flames flickering warily around his hands.
"Statues don't move," Tyler (Thunderstorm) said grimly. "Right?"
RUMBLE!
Before they could react, the towering stone figures lurched to life—golems infused with ancient power.
"Battle formation!" Timothy shouted.
The squad launched into action. Jakson unleashed torrents of blazing fire, Tyler cracked lightning across the sand, Max blurred through enemies, and Rudy danced through the storm with blue flames slicing through stone. Within moments, the golems lay shattered.
---
Back in Ultra City…
The mission was over. The storm had passed—at least, for now.
The Hero Squad returned to their base, chatting casually as they settled in.
"That was way too easy," Tyler (Thunderstorm) said, stretching his arms as he dropped onto the couch.
"I don't care if it was easy," Timothy (Vilex) replied. "We did our part. Let's stay focused—there's always a next threat."
"Let's find something fun to watch," Derick (Mega Panther) suggested, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels.
But just as he landed on a news station, the screen glitched.
Static.
Then—darkness.
Suddenly, a sinister figure appeared across every screen in Ultra City. His presence was unmistakable.
Clad in black armor, sitting on a throne of obsidian—Al-Daeem, or as he now called himself, Sultan.
Behind him stood four shadows—two of which were disturbingly familiar.
"Hello, citizens of Ultra City," Al-Daeem said, his voice rich, cold, and confident. "You may call me Sultan. These are my comrades… you might recognize two of them—Sun and Wukong. Yes, they've joined my cause."
He leaned forward, eyes piercing through the screen.
"We are the cause of the massacre. And that… was just the beginning. A greater terror is coming. I am giving you a chance—prepare."
In the Hero Association HQ, Layla shot up from her seat.
"Track the broadcast feed!" she ordered.
Technicians scrambled. "Ma'am, it's bouncing across multiple satellites. We can't trace it!"
Even Larry (Hi-Tech) tried from his gear—nothing.
The feed cut back to Sultan.
"On September 6, 2042…"
His voice grew darker.
"The cleansing begins."
And just like that, the transmission ended.
Silence fell across Ultra City.
Every citizen had seen it. Every screen had burned his message into their minds.
The storm had only just begun.