Bandy finally stopped crying.
He lifted his head and screamed—
"BE READY FOR YOUR DEATH, YOU INHUMAN CREATURE!
I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU ONE HELL OF A FIGHT!"
Kunter roared in response.
He sprinted forward.
Lightning cracked as Bandy hurled his scythe again, electricity riding along its blade. Kunter twisted aside at the last second, the weapon slicing past him before curving back toward Bandy's grip.
Bandy threw the scythe again.
And again.
Kunter's eyes narrowed.
He was recognising a similar pattern of Bandy's attacks.
"That's it…" he murmured
"He doesn't know anything else."
Even with both arms damaged and his body screaming in protest, the surge of adrenaline drowned the pain. Confidence surged through him.
Then he jumped up.
A monstrous leap—higher than Bandy himself.
Bandy froze.
The scythe was still midair.
It wouldn't return in time.
Desperate, he unleashed everything.
A blinding beam of electricity tore through the sky.
But unfortunately
Kunter vanished from its path—
and reappeared in front of Bandy.
WHAM.
A brutal kick smashed into Bandy's face, knocking him unconscious instantly.
Kunter landed heavily, breathing hard—
Then he noticed it.
The beam hadn't exploded.
It was compressing.
A sphere of pure lightning hovered behind him, violently unstable.
"…What?"
The realization came too late.
The sphere detonated.
An enormous explosion tore through Tema's headquarters.
Heroes—conscious and unconscious alike—were hurled through the air. Fire erupted. Concrete shattered. There was no sign of Kunter nearby.
Silence...
Then pain.
Kunter groaned.
Both arms were gone.
One leg barely remained functional.
Blood soaked the ground beneath him.
His vision was almost gone. His hearing rang endlessly.
The adrenaline faded.
Reality crashed in.
He dragged himself upright using a shattered tree, barely standing.
Through the pain and the ringing in his ears, something vibrated weakly.
Kunter looked down in disbelief.
His phone was still alive.
"…Tch. How is this device still alive?."
He answered.
A calm voice exploded with restrained fury.
"Why didn't you follow orders? Why didn't you retreat? Why didn't you bring the trio to me?"
Kunter exhaled slowly.
"There's been a miscalculation I think," he said hoarsely.
"The trio aren't the only ones."
The voice went silent.
"Tema's people," Kunter continued, lowering his head.
"They're full of monsters. If they master their potential… your organization won't survive."
Footsteps closed in around him as the sky began to lighten, the first pale hues of dawn bleeding through the smoke.
A silent ring formed—the Vanguard Division, Hero Police—standing firm with restraint rifles raised, specialized weapons designed to incapacitate and torture villains into submission without killing them.
Sirens wailed as ambulances arrived one after another, medics pulling injured heroes from the wreckage, lifting the unconscious and the barely breathing onto stretchers.
Firefighters battled the last remnants of the fire, water crashing against burning debris as steam rose into the morning air.
Kunter let the phone slip from his hand.
He stood there—alone—head lowered.
Not moving an inch.