The approaching pilot watched as a massive bolt of lightning split the sky, shattering the darkness. His hand trembled slightly on the control stick, but years of rigorous training kept him steady as he pressed the fire button.
The aircraft cannon roared. The F-16 streaked past the Skytree.
"Confirm target."
Through the flight helmet's night vision, debris sprayed from the tower's peak, snow-like particles bursting outward. A few shattered steel beams slowly peeled away, falling into the abyss below.
The world fell silent.
"Jingu One, confirmed hit."
…
Logan felt himself being violently battered by a surge of energy.
The bolt of lightning, imbued with the power of nature itself, struck the top of the Tokyo Skytree with pinpoint accuracy.
Logan took the full brunt of the attack without reservation. Despite his preparations, despite his body being suffused with Lightning Attribute Chakra, the moment the unparalleled electrical force surged into him, his consciousness nearly blacked out.
The current was no longer the familiar, controllable warmth, it was pure destruction, wild and unrelenting, crashing into him like an unstoppable flood. It had been a long time since Logan had felt such scorching pain. The lightning rampaged through his body, colliding in every direction.
His previously depleted Chakra Reserves were instantly filled to the brim, and yet the energy showed no signs of stopping.
Logan's ability to absorb it lagged behind by a factor of ten. This raw, primal power was utterly beyond his control. It kept pouring in, endlessly compressing itself into every space it could reach, and still, it did not cease.
Blood sprayed from his mouth, evaporating instantly into steam. His organs writhed in agony under the furious energy, tiny blood vessels beginning to rupture.
Logan bit his lip, enduring the unbearable pain within and without, as if every cell in his body was screaming. With the last shred of his reason, he activated the Sage Art in his left-hand seal.
The violent energy surging through him was like an unstable bomb, growing stronger within his body. But he couldn't release it immediately, as doing so would mean all his previous efforts were wasted.
The Paulownia Forest Sage Art activated, temporarily containing all the energy. Logan gritted his teeth against the needle-like pain stabbing through his brain.
The Divine Bird's mark shone brilliantly as the lightning raged within him. Then, at last, the immense energy was no longer stagnant and found the slightest flow. Logan barely managed to achieve a fragile balance.
The jet's roar was already close. Logan knew he couldn't stop now. He saw the deep cavern entrance. He saw the pilot in the cockpit.
Memories of his life flashed by like fleeting light. No matter how difficult the battle, no matter how close to death, he had never given up in any situation. Not before. Not now.
"Shun…shin no Jutsu!"
The words barely squeezed from his throat. Logan vanished from the tower's peak just as the ammunition pierced through, detonating on impact. A cloud of frost and debris exploded outward. Amid the destruction, Logan plummeted straight down.
The world blurred and spun in his vision as he fell. The tower he had painstakingly climbed flickered past in rapid succession, meter after meter. The night sky was below, while the illuminated city stretched above. The sound of the wind faded from his ears. Free-falling would lead him straight to death, but Logan strained his eyes to see.
The jet looped in the sky, banking into another pass. His gaze flickered. Gritting his teeth, Logan forced himself to execute another movement, vanishing into the tower's blind spot on the opposite side.
Whoosh…
Boom!
He used every ounce of strength left in him, executing two rapid movements to counteract the inertia. While escaping the blast zone, he adjusted his posture. The target loomed larger, and Logan crashed directly into the gaping hole in the tower's second observation deck.
…
…
Capital's nights were always bustling.
In the silence of the late hours, thousands of lights flickered across the ordinary evening. Every window held a different household, with men, women, and children eating, arguing, sleeping.
Half of Left City Street had gone dark, but the northern part still glowed.
Sumika often looked at those windows, imagining the stories unfolding within… the laughter, the sorrow left behind in those small squares of light.
On nights like this, she stood on the attic balcony, gazing into the distance. She had a favorite riverside path along Left City Street, and the northern lights shone so densely that she guessed the midnight market was still lively.
A breeze lifted her hair. Her eyes were as clear as water. She had lived in this city, the place of her birth, for many years. No matter how far her journeys had taken her, she always returned. Here, she had discovered so many things she cherished, her aspirations, the people she admired.
Every night was as beautiful as the last. Tonight was no different. Sumika's gaze traced the city walls stretching into the distance, where peace and serenity reigned.
But as her fingertips brushed the air gently, she also felt the presence of things she loathed. Everything she had learned and witnessed whispered to her… this peace was not entirely real.
She had seen lives cut down like weeds, promises torn apart as if they were nothing. She should have known—the world she longed for was not truly beautiful. If anything, the moment she stepped beyond the city's borders, the world revealed its true, brutal nature.
Sumika gently placed her hand on the wooden railing, the rough texture scraping against her soul. The voices of the maids carried through the door, but she only responded absentmindedly.
Gathering her long hair, her neck glowed with a faint red hue under the warm candlelight. The flickering flame wavered as she silently stepped forward and gently closed the paper window.
She lived here… amidst the thousands of illuminated homes in the distance, she too was merely one small, framed window in the grand cityscape.
Tomorrow, she was to be engaged to a man she had never met, yet there was no joy in her eyes.
The courtyard was decorated with celebratory banners, lanterns hanging high, casting a crimson glow over the servants who bustled about, ensuring every detail was in place.
Even the two vigilant sentries, who had stood guard without complaint for years, found themselves swept up in the relaxed atmosphere, casually chatting with one another.
Standing taller than the surrounding trees, Sumika habitually gazed downward, her thoughts drifting to unrelated matters.
Lightly biting her lip, she muttered, "How on earth does that person come up every time?"
"Why does he never use the front door?" Sumika kicked the wooden railing.
"Why does he always take so long to come see me..." Thud.
"Why did he disappear..."
Sumika's voice trailed off into a whisper. No longer kicking the railing, she tilted her head back, her eyes glistening as she stared up at the sky.
"Why… why didn't he say he liked me..."
Time passed. The city lights dimmed slightly, and the sounds of movement in the courtyard faded.
She clenched her sleeves tightly, unwillingly, yet painfully, committing this moment of youth to memory.
A careful knock on the door broke her reverie, "My lady, would you like to try on tomorrow's clothes..."
"No!"
"..."
The servants retreated for the night, but Sumika remained on the balcony, unwilling to sleep.
Then, footsteps echoed from within her room, drawing closer.
"I said I wasn't going to try it on!"
Sumika raised her voice and turned around angrily.
"Huh?"
The tall figure standing inside the room hesitated, looking confused.
Logan's face came into view, and for a moment, Sumika's mind went blank. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Ha… Hattori-kun?" Sumika's face was full of disbelief, but it was quickly overtaken by alarm as she took in his battered state, "What happened to you?!"
Logan's current condition is indeed very bad.
However, despite the rampaging lightning still wreaking havoc inside his body, the moment he saw her, the pain seemed to lessen just a little.
"You seem… really fired up tonight." Logan's clothes were in tatters, wounds covered in dried blood while fresh ones continued to bleed. His flesh stuck to his torn fabric, and stray sparks of electricity flickered across his skin, filling the air with a faint, burnt smell.
Even then, he was still in the mood to lighten the mood, "You..." He barely got the words out before his legs gave way beneath him.
"How did you become like this?" Sumika lost all her grace and hurriedly ran over to support Logan.
Just then, a small arc of electricity zapped between them, and Sumika instinctively yanked her hand back with a wince.
"I'm fine." Logan insisted, pushing himself up, "This is just a small matter... pfft."
He coughed out a mouthful of blood, dyeing the girl's dress bright red.
"Stop talking!" Sumika scolded him anxiously, completely at a loss for what to do. She instinctively wanted to call for help, but remembering how Logan always arrived in secret, she hesitated and instead resolutely shut the door behind her.