The distant hum of helicopters grew louder, the signal of the Hero Association's emergency response teams arriving. Spotlights swept across the battlefield, illuminating the destruction in full clarity.
Agents and medics flooded the scene, tending to the wounded and securing the area.
From one of the helicopters, Director Watanabe stepped down, his normally stoic expression marred by shock.
He scanned the wreckage before locking eyes with Endeavor.
"This is worse than I expected," he muttered.
Endeavor-"We underestimated him."
Watanabe didn't respond right away.
His gaze flickered to the glowing symbol, lingering there. "We'll debrief at headquarters," he said.
------------------------------------------
The conference room at the Hero Association headquarters was tense.
Top heroes, analysts, and officials gathered, watching the replayed battle footage on a massive screen.
Every devastating attack and every moment leading up to their defeat played over and over again.
Watanabe stood at the head of the table, his hands gripping the edges as if bracing himself. "This -" he said grimly.
"Radahn—if that's even his real name—isn't just a villain with an unknown background and no quirk registry."
Hawks leaned forward.
"He didn't even understand what we were. We called ourselves heroes, and he looked at us like we were speaking a foreign language."
Best Jeanist nodded.
Endeavor slammed his fist on the table, causing a few startled looks.
"We need to do something. He's still out there."
Others nodded.
As the meeting dispersed, Hawks lingered, staring at the paused screen.
Radahn stood amidst the destruction, his massive hammer resting on his shoulder, his glowing eyes devoid of emotion.
"We'll find you," Endeavor muttered. "And next time, we'll be ready."
Meanwhile,
Far away, beneath a foreign sky, Radahn sat alone in the wilderness, staring into the fire.
His massive form cast a looming shadow against the trees.
He did not need warmth, nor food.
He closed his eyes , darkness submerged him as he wandered deep in his memories.
'A blood-red sky. An endless desert, where twisted bodies lay scattered across the dunes. Ghostly echoes of warriors cried out in agony, their faces lost to time. And in the distance, atop a warhorse barely able to carry its burden, a towering figure loomed.
Himself.
A broken god, stripped of reason, consumed by madness.
His own roars of fury rang in his ears, a cacophony of despair and rage. He saw blades pierce his flesh, felt his bones shatter and rearrange, his mind torn asunder.
The last thing he saw before waking was the flash of golden light—an overwhelming radiance, banishing the blood-red sky.'
Radahn's eyes snapped open. His hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword.
'The forgotten dread still haunts me'
He exhaled slowly, gazing up at the foreign stars above.
'The stars here are just dust and echoes unlike ours.'