Five years ago.
Akushi Moya was nine years old when the world broke.
At that time, there was no such thing as a Burst Legend.
There were no names for heroes.
No explanations for power.
No understanding of what was happening.
Only fear.
It was late afternoon when the air changed.
Akushi noticed it first.
The city didn't go silent—but it slowed, like the world itself was holding its breath. Conversations faded. Footsteps hesitated. Even the wind seemed unsure.
"Mom?" Akushi asked, tugging gently at his mother's sleeve.
Aya Moya stopped walking.
Her eyes were fixed on the sky.
The clouds above them twisted inward, folding unnaturally, as if being pulled toward a point that didn't exist.
"…Inside," she said quietly.
"Now."
They didn't make it far.
The sky cracked open.
Not thunder.
Not lightning.
Reality split apart with a sound like glass being torn in half.
People screamed.
Sirens erupted too late.
Akushi felt his mother's grip tighten as she pulled him into a run.
"What's happening?!" he cried.
"Don't look up," Aya said. "Please—just run."
But Akushi did look.
Something enormous was pushing its way through the sky itself, dripping black energy that made the air feel heavy and wrong.
That was the moment Akushi learned what terror truly was.
Ken Goro lived three floors above them.
When evacuation routes collapsed and panic swallowed the building, it was Ken who kicked open his apartment door.
"Aya!" he shouted over the chaos. "Shelters are full—we can't go underground!"
Another roar shook the street.
The pressure alone made Akushi stumble.
Aya grabbed his shoulders and knelt in front of him.
"Akushi," she said, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes, "listen to me carefully."
"No," Akushi said immediately. "You're coming too."
Aya shook her head.
"I have to help the others evacuate," she said. "You're going with Mr. Goro."
Ken stiffened. "Aya—"
"Please," she said, not looking at him. "You're stronger than me."
"But you're not a fighter!" Akushi cried.
Aya brushed his hair back gently.
"Neither are most people," she replied. "That doesn't mean we stop moving."
She stood.
She didn't look back.
That was the last time Akushi saw his mother alive.
The First Collapse lasted hours.
It felt like years.
When the portals finally closed, the city was unrecognizable. Smoke hung in the air. Buildings leaned at broken angles. Streets were stained dark.
Bodies were counted.
Names were read.
Aya Moya was listed among the dead.
Cause of death: exhaustion during evacuation efforts.
Akushi didn't cry.
He didn't speak.
He just stared at the sky.
That night—long after Akushi had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion—Ken sat beside the radio, listening.
At first, it was only static.
Then a voice broke through.
"…repeat—this is an emergency broadcast—"
Ken froze.
"…multiple mythical entities have retreated," the voice said, shaking.
"Eyewitness reports confirm a single unidentified human engaged them directly."
Ken's breath caught.
"…the individual exhibited extreme energy output far beyond known limits…"
Ken looked at Akushi, sleeping fitfully nearby.
"…the entities withdrew."
Silence followed.
Then the voice spoke again.
"We do not know who he is."
Ken whispered to the empty room, "Neither do we."
Over the next days, fragments emerged.
Grainy footage.
Survivor accounts.
Shattered streets where something impossible had happened.
People started talking.
About the man who stood alone.
About how the monsters ran.
About how his body burned with energy until the air itself warped.
Someone gave him a name.
The Burst Legend.
Akushi heard it weeks later.
He was sitting on the floor, staring at nothing, when Ken turned on the broadcast.
"…humanity owes its survival to what analysts are calling the Burst Phenomenon—"
Akushi looked up.
"…a man who exceeded human limits and forced the invaders back…"
Akushi listened.
He didn't feel hope.
He felt understanding.
PRESENT DAY (HOSPITAL)
Akushi woke to the steady rhythm of a heart monitor.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
His eyes opened slowly, vision blurring before settling on a white ceiling. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic. Something tugged uncomfortably at his wrist.
Hospital.
Rain tapped softly against the window.
"…Akushi."
The voice was rough.
He turned his head.
Ken Goro sat beside the bed, hunched forward, his elbows on his knees. He looked exhausted—more than usual. His eyes were red, like he hadn't slept.
"You scared the hell out of me," Ken said quietly.
Akushi swallowed. "What… happened?"
Ken took a breath, then another, like he was choosing his words carefully.
"When that thing came through the sky," he began, "you didn't move. Everyone else was running, screaming… but you were just standing there."
Akushi frowned faintly. "…I remember the pressure."
"You started breathing differently," Ken continued. "Slower. Deeper. Like you were focusing on something only you could feel."
Ken's hands clenched.
"Then the air around you changed. I felt it. Like the weight before a storm."
Akushi whispered, "My Nen…"
Ken nodded. "It started leaking out of you. Not exploding—just spilling. And the monster…" His voice dropped. "It noticed."
Akushi's chest tightened.
"It looked at you like it recognized something," Ken said. "Like you weren't just a kid anymore."
Ken swallowed hard.
"Then you took a step forward."
"I did?" Akushi asked.
"Yes," Ken said sharply. "And that's when I grabbed you and shouted—but you didn't hear me."
Ken closed his eyes briefly.
"The next thing I knew, you collapsed. Just—dropped. Like your body gave up."
Akushi stared at the ceiling.
"So I fainted because my Nen…"
"Because your body couldn't handle what was happening," Ken said. "Doctors said your energy circulation spiked too fast. If it hadn't shut itself down—"
He didn't finish.
Silence settled between them.
Before Akushi could speak, the door slid open.
A calm presence filled the room.
Captain Reina Solis stepped inside.
"I heard you were awake," she said.
Ken turned sharply. "Captain. Tell him."
Reina's gaze moved to Akushi. "During the confrontation, your Nen behaved abnormally," she said. "It reacted to the mythical being's presence."
Akushi asked quietly, "Reacted how?"
"It rose," Reina replied. "Instinctively. Like it was responding to a threat older than fear."
Ken stiffened. "That doesn't sound normal."
"It isn't," Reina said. "Most humans suppress Nen under pressure. Yours tried to match it."
Akushi's fingers curled slightly.
Reina continued, "That trait is rare. And when monsters sense it…"
She paused.
"They don't see a civilian."
The rain outside grew heavier.
Ken asked, almost pleading, "Then what do they see?"
Reina met Akushi's eyes.
"…They see something unfinished."
Akushi's heartbeat thudded in his ears.
Somewhere beyond the clouds—
Something remembered the way he felt.