The night in Chicago is dark. Between the downtown buildings, only the outline of the Midway Ruins floats black against the sky. Midway Ruins—the district obliterated three years ago in the Second Fracsan Invasion. It remains unchanged. Rubble, collapsed buildings, rusted steel frames. No one obeys the "No Trespassing" signs. Kai stood at its entrance. Ten days since the transfer. That night, he suffered total defeat in the underground of this city. A chain tightened around his neck, sound waves destroyed his semicircular canals, and his comrade remained unconscious for three days. Broken ribs. Dislocated shoulder. The red lamp of a camera in a windowless room. He remembers it all. "[serious] Let's go." Mark, standing beside him, spoke quietly. The bandages were off. A scar remained on the right side of his face, but his eyes had returned to their normal color. That familiar green—with real light in them. "[cold] Yeah." Kai placed his hand on his right ear. The earplug issued by the GDA fit snugly deep in his ear canal. If the sound wave user came at him with the same frequency as last time, it would end there. Cecil's analysts had cracked the frequency data by last night. He'd use everything available. "[cold] The plan stays the same. I go in from the front and draw everyone's attention. Push Machine Head's processing past its limit. You circle around through the underground passage and hit the deepest level." "[serious] Got it. One signal only—I'll send it right before I break through the wall." "[cold] Don't come early. If you do, my decoy becomes pointless." Mark's mouth twisted slightly. Kai could tell he had something to say. But he stayed silent. That was fine. Kai stared at the Network Vault—the ground entrance to Machine Head's underground base. A rusted iron door, modified from an old subway ventilation shaft. If he entered here, he wouldn't need to avoid the camera's blind spots. Instead, he'd step right through all of them. Show them. Show every camera that he's here. One deep breath. Kai ran. --- The sound of the iron door being kicked open echoed through the underground. A metallic crash reverberated through the entire passage. Concrete dust fell. Kai landed and immediately moved forward. He didn't hide his footsteps. He didn't destroy the surveillance cameras. He showed Machine Head everything. Maximum load on your parallel processing. About thirty meters in, he felt presences ahead. Multiple. At least three. The chain user came first. The same man as before. Good build. Two thick chains hanging from his waist. Last time, this guy had strangled him. He'd been wrapped after his sense of balance was stolen. He'd been targeted the moment his body axis collapsed. This time was different. The man threw the chain. Kai extended his hand straight forward. He caught the chain's tip with his right hand. Cold metal sensation. The next instant, Kai pulled with both hands—tore it apart. A sharp crack. The chain split in two and fell to the ground. The man's face froze. Kai stepped in. Before the man could retreat, he drove his right elbow into his ribs. He felt bone creak. The man flew into the concrete wall and collapsed. Done. Less than a second. "What... this guy is completely different from last time—" A voice came from deeper in the passage. Before the next one could move, another presence shifted. The sound wave user. Like before, he was pressed against the wall. He'd been building something—it's coming. High-frequency sound waves struck the air. Kai felt nothing. The earplug blocked it completely. In the quiet where all noise was erased, he could see the sound wave user's eyes widen. The attack didn't work—his face struggling to accept that fact. Kai ran. Four steps to close the distance. The sound wave user tried to retreat—too slow. Kai drove upward from below, striking his jaw. A sharp impact traveled through his fist, and the man fell backward. He felt the jaw bone break. Consciousness gone. "[angry] What's happening?! This guy doesn't match the data at all!" A shout came from deeper in. Three left. Kai moved forward while deliberately making his movements larger. He kicked the wall dramatically. He ran diagonally through the passage. He moved so every camera would capture it. Force Machine Head's mechanical head to process all footage in parallel. Make it track five people's movements simultaneously. Issue command instructions in five directions at once. Push it past its limit. That's all that matters. --- Machine Head's command center was fifteen meters underground. In air constantly maintained at eighteen degrees, Machine Head continued processing footage from all surveillance cameras in parallel. The displays on his mechanized head flickered rapidly. Route 1, Route 2, instructions to Mercenary C, warning to Mercenary D— For the first time, that processing lagged. Fractions of a second. Data couldn't keep up. The intruder's movements had no pattern. Couldn't be learned. No regularity. Didn't match the Fracsan battle data, didn't match the previous engagement data, didn't match anything. In that gap, deep in the underground passage, a wall rang out. Boom—. Instructions to the guards delayed by one moment. That single moment was everything. Mark burst through the concrete wall into the command center. Dust spread. Mark brushed the powder from his hands as he stood in the center of the room. Three guards tried to move to surround Machine Head—Mark was already running. First one. Grabbed his right arm and slammed him to the floor. Second one. Came straight at him—Mark's left fist stopped him. Pressed him against the wall. Third one lunged—Mark turned and swept his arm, spinning and throwing him. All three collapsed. Only Machine Head remained. The mechanized head's lens captured Mark. Data processed at high speed inside—but the head was still in the aftereffects of overload. Analysis was one step behind. Mark moved forward. "[angry] No matter how incredible your analysis is—you can't calculate what we feel." He grabbed Machine Head's mechanized head with both hands and slammed it against the wall behind him. Crash. A heavy metallic sound echoed through the command center. Machine Head slowly collapsed to the floor. The mechanized head's display flickered and went dark. --- The last mercenary was trying to escape down the passage. Kai tripped him. The man fell, his face hitting the floor. He didn't move again. Kai's fist struck the wall once—no sound came out. When he removed the earplug, silence returned to the passage. It was over. Kai walked through the passage and returned to the command center. When he opened the door, Mark stood there covered in dust. On the floor were Machine Head and three guards. A single monitor on the desk still glowed. The two faced each other in silence. Mark thrust his right fist forward. Kai paused for a moment. In the same place as before—Chicago Downtown—this time, not with knowledge from the original story, but with a strategy built from the battle they'd actually lost, they'd won. That fact settled quietly inside Kai. Kai extended his own right fist and met Mark's. "[cold] This is crazy." Mark smiled slightly. His freckles showed. "[serious] We just gotta do it." --- When they emerged above ground, the GDA containment team had already finished deploying. Uniformed personnel, about a dozen of them, had sealed off the perimeter. White lights illuminated the ground. The ruins' shadows stretched long in the night. Standing alone in that light was a man in a suit. Cecil Stedman. A face marked by burns. Glasses. Eyes that were always the same—cold, calculating eyes that revealed no emotion. Those eyes captured Kai. Silence continued. Cecil said nothing. He simply nodded once, slightly. Not acceptance. Not praise. Just—no denial. The man who'd been watching them as a threat these past three days, constantly calculating worst-case scenarios, didn't deny them tonight. That was enough for Kai. --- "[excited] You two—you're both safe!" Footsteps ran from outside the perimeter. Vivid crimson hair swayed in the night's light. It was Amber. She was breathing slightly hard. She still wore the volunteer bib from helping with evacuation. Amber eyes checked Kai and Mark's faces alternately. "[gentle] You both were so cool." She said it straight. No hesitation. That voice, Kai thought. The same voice as that girl carrying an old man's luggage outside the community center. Whether registered with the GDA or not, where her power came from, what she really was—none of it mattered. She spoke only what she'd seen. Kai looked away. Down at the night ground. Mark let out a small sound beside him. "[serious] Your face is red." "[cold] It's not." "[serious] Yeah, it is." "[cold] ...Shut up." Mark lightly elbowed him. Kai brushed it away. Amber watched their exchange and laughed softly, hand over her mouth. Dimples showed. She didn't say anything more. Didn't ask about Kai's power. Didn't demand to know if it was dangerous. She simply felt genuine joy that both of them were safe. That ordinary way of treating him still felt special to Kai. "[gentle] Be careful on your way home. And next time—please stay safe." With just that, Amber turned toward the staff. Her crimson hair receded into the distance. Kai watched her back for a moment. --- They returned to the GDA facility near midnight. Through the corridor windows, Chicago's night skyline was visible. Downtown buildings. Industrial district lights. The remains of a half-destroyed building floating in the night sky, cut black against it. The ordinary landscape of this world. Kai stood alone before it. He'd defeated Machine Head. Cecil had nodded. He'd achieved real coordination with Mark. Amber had smiled. In ten days since the transfer, he'd built something real. But. Nolan Grayson's face floated into Kai's mind. A gentle smile. Quiet golden eyes. Eyes that weren't smiling. A hand simply resting on his shoulder, making his broken ribs creak. That weight. That presence—before it, no matter how much he could fight, nothing meant anything. The worst event for the Guardians of the Globe was coming soon. The scene he'd read in the comics. The one pulling the trigger was—Mark's father. Somewhere tonight, Nolan was smiling. With the face Mark trusted. With an ordinary father's voice, saying, "My son has been in your care." Kai looked at his own right hand. There was a faint mark from tonight's wound at the base of his fingers. Blood vessels showed thinly, catching the light. The source of his power was still unknown. Even if designed, even if created—the fact that he'd fought with this fist tonight was real. Should he tell someone? Tell Mark? "Your father is going to kill the entire Guardians of the Globe soon." Would he believe it? If he did, what then? Make father and son fight? History was already changing. Something had shifted because of his transfer. Saying more might change things in an even worse direction. If he stayed silent, it would happen. If he spoke—he didn't know. Kai clenched his fist. Quietly, just once. Next time, he wouldn't run. But how could he stop it? Who should he tell? What should he say? What would change history, and what would make it worse? The answer was—still nothing. Outside the window, Chicago's night continued. Amber's voice played once more in his head. Please stay safe next time. That single phrase alone remained warm in this weight.