The sky over Musutafu was painted in fading orange, twilight stretching long shadows across the alleyways and rooftops. Kael Ishiro crouched atop a parking structure, the Darkbind tendrils that coiled around his limbs twitching with restless energy. He'd taken down six villains in the past week—petty thugs with weak Quirks, but each one had tested his control, his precision, and his resolve. The Quirks he'd taken now pulsed inside him like echoes in a cave.
He had started carving out a reputation in the underground—an unregistered vigilante, young, faceless, striking down villains and leaving them Quirkless.
And someone had noticed.
…
Kael heard the warning too late—a thin whistle cut through the air before a wall of solid black energy slammed into the parking garage. The concrete cracked like ice. He flipped backward, narrowly avoiding a crushing blow, but the impact flung him into the railing. Metal buckled.
From the smoke stepped a tall figure in a sleeveless trench coat, hair cropped short, with jagged scars running down his jawline and neck. His eyes glowed faintly violet.
"You're the kid that took Darkbind," the man said flatly. "You've made some enemies."
Kael rose to his feet, Darkbind forming defensive coils around his arms. "You're not the first Villain to have a vendetta against me. And you certainly won't be the last."
"I'm not like the others," the man growled. "My name's Ryken Voss. And I'm not here to talk."
Quirk: Black Prism
Type: Emitter / Reflection-Type Hybrid
Function: Ryken's body is surrounded by a dark crystalline energy field that absorbs and refracts energy-based or physical attacks, redirecting them back with amplified force. He can momentarily solidify parts of the field to act like mirrors, bending Darkbind's shadows and even reflecting Kael's movement patterns.
Kael launched first, shadow-tendrils firing out in a web pattern. Ryken sidestepped, but Kael anticipated it, binding a support pillar and slinging himself into close range. A sharp tendril lashed toward Ryken's side—
CLANG!
The tendril struck a shimmering dark surface that appeared in mid-air, like a slice of obsidian. The force was reflected back at double the speed. Kael ducked, but the recoil still grazed his arm.
"Not bad," Ryken said, his voice calm, unreadable. "But you rely too much on one trick."
Kael narrowed his eyes. Shadows burst from his back like wings, forming spears. He sent them raining down.
Ryken raised a prism-shaped shield. The spears bounced wildly, slamming into the concrete around them—Kael's own attack now boxing him in.
Darkbind retracted in panic as Kael lunged backward—too late. Ryken moved like lightning and struck with a heavy elbow to Kael's ribs, sending him sprawling across the rooftop.
Kael coughed, tasted blood. "You're not just a reflector."
"Smart," Ryken said, walking forward. "My Quirk adapts. I learn your rhythm, reflect it, then break it."
Kael tried changing tactics. He used Flashstep, a burst of speed to flank Ryken, then launched his tendrils low, slicing from behind. But Ryken didn't move—he let a prism field bloom beneath his feet.
Kael's entire strike was turned inside out.
The energy surged into his own back, slamming him into a rooftop antenna. His vision blurred.
'Yumi would've told me to fall back. Auntie would've called this reckless. VoidFlare would've been flat out disappointed..'
Kael's thoughts spiraled. He'd never lost before. Not like this.
But if he stayed—
Ryken's next attack came with a shout, the prism field expanding outward like a burst of dark glass. Kael snarled and opened a shadow gate—one he hadn't used in months.
The shadows swallowed him whole. He vanished from the rooftop seconds before Ryken's attack split the air like a scream.
…
Kael reappeared in the alley behind Aunt Nari's bakery, stumbling and clutching his ribs. His shadows retracted into his skin as he collapsed behind the dumpster, breath ragged.
"Not invincible," he muttered. "Not even close."
He stared at his trembling hands.
He'd been careless. Too confident. He hadn't adapted—Ryken had.
That night, he didn't sleep. Instead, he reviewed every move, every choice, and every failure. His pride stung worse than his bruises.
But it also lit a fire.
…