“It’s coming! Prepare for an attack!!”
Meanwhile, in Ikebukuro Station, several young soldiers scattered in different directions as ordered.
One, already close to the enemy, used his impressive athleticism to dash to safety.
Another tossed aside her gun and dived for cover.
Another used his sword to spin through the air.
A large mass of flames swept through the open space where they had stood just moments ago, leaving behind a charred stench that invaded their nostrils.
The large, dragon-shaped flames measured several meters in height. There was clearly no point in trying to extinguish them now. The soldiers raised their heads, gritting their teeth against the heat.
One of them, a young man with a mature face, glared in the direction from which the flames had come—toward the deserted platform of Ikebukuro Station, where the last train of the night was already due to depart.
“Monstrous freak…,” he muttered.
An aberration was standing on the platform.
Two antennae grew out of its head, and its face was hidden, completely blacked out. The bipedal creature looked nearly human in shape, but it was over three meters tall and had numerous protuberances sprouting from its body.
It was clearly unnatural. And it was up to the young men and women to put down this aberration and its flames.
The young man spoke quietly into his wireless earpiece, never taking his eyes off the enemy. “I’m safe… All units, report your status.”
“Doing great, Captain!”
“I’m fine, too. Sure is hot, though.”
Multiple voices responded over the comms. The young man sighed in relief. It didn’t sound as if anyone was hurt.
Two of the voices, at least, seemed to be enjoying themselves.
“These fighter types sure do know how to make a statement, though!”
“You think it’s a tank, then? Based on the way it looks, I thought it might be a magic type instead.”
“Wizards are never this powerful. See how it’s relying on brute force instead of clever tricks? That’s gotta be a tank, for sure.”
“Guess things are about to get fun, then!”
“Enough,” the young man told them. “It might be past the last train, but this is still a terminal station. I don’t care if there aren’t many people around now, we need to wrap this up quickly.”
“Lighten up, Azuma, we’re just joking,” one of the voices said flippantly.
The young man, Azuma, rolled his eyes in response.
There were almost no civilians left on the Yamanote Line platform at this point—and the few who remained were no longer alive. No one else approached; it was just these young men and women. Neither station employees nor police, they were dressed in combat uniforms and spread out along the platform.
“It’s been thirty minutes since that thing first appeared. It’s done enough damage already,” said Azuma, his eyes like flint.
As he spoke, flames rose up behind him. They were from the earlier attack. A strangely shaped train car that was parked at the station caught fire, setting off the platform’s sprinkler system—Azuma and his comrades continued to glare at the creature, unfazed by the spraying water and suffocating heat.
This monster, which had already lit the platform on fire and had caused multiple deaths, was known as…
“…A hero.”
“SKREEEEE!!”
The sound was grotesque and spine-chilling. The thing glared at Azuma as it emitted this insect-like screech from its mouth—or at least what seemed to be its mouth.
The young man didn’t flinch. He spoke into his earpiece once more.
“We don’t have time—let’s get this wrapped in five minutes, at most.”
The other members gave the affirmative and sprang into action, following Azuma’s commands.
“KRREEE! HRAAAA… GWRARRR…”
“Speak like a human, you freak,” Azuma muttered to no one in particular.
The aberration began to move. Its two antennae stood on end. Something, or some things, were coming, materializing behind the creature.
Everyone tensed. The “things” swirled into being like a vortex—it was water. Multiple spheres of water, each several meters across, suspended in space.
As expected, once the spheres took shape they immediately shot forward. Everyone did their best to get out of the way as the spheres crashed into the station platform and sent the opposing train tracks flying.
The spheres were incredibly powerful, easily wiping away everything in their path.
“The cops should get here in about three minutes, right? Let’s eliminate this thing before they arrive,” said Azuma.
The monster wailed. A new energy type was coming.
“Heroes don’t play fair, but they always have a weakness. All we need to do is hit that weak spot.”
“The heart, right?”
Gunfire. A girl’s lively voice over the comms.
At almost the exact same moment, the side of the monster’s head exploded. With one smooth motion, Azuma unsheathed the katana at his waist. A third person—a young man—could be heard laughing over the comms.
“Ha-ha, I never get tired of seeing that thing.”
“Like you’re one to talk.”
Azuma’s katana was beautiful—and grotesque. The silver blade seemed alive, traced with what looked like pure blood. Not from the kill, however. This blood was etched into the sword like veins. Not purely organic—but obviously not made by human hands, either.
Azuma closed his eyes for a moment and then muttered softly, “The egg is in its chest. The front left, where the human heart would be.”
“Okay! Azuma, you’re the closest. Can you—? Never mind, you’re already on your way.”
The other young man rushed in on his own, before anyone else could act, his eyes fixated on the aberration.
The sound of its beating heart was in his ear.
It was almost deafening. The tiny pulsations seemed to drown out all the noise and chaos around him. Faint and macabre, forcibly working its feeble heart.
Azuma swung his blade. With a slash and a thrust, he closed the distance—piercing the creature on the left side of its chest.
“SKREE—GWRAAA!”
The creature’s eyes opened wide. It began to scratch and writhe.
“Just die already—before you kill anyone else.”
“WHRAAR…GRRAA… WHRAAA…”
The monster seemed to be trying to say something. Azuma paid it no mind as he withdrew his sword. There was something strange stuck to the tip, round and spherical. It seemed to undulate and pulse, almost as if alive.
Azuma stamped the spherical heart beneath his foot, bringing its pulsations to an end.
The aberration instantly ceased moving. It began to slowly tilt backward. For a brief moment the blackness shrouding its head vanished, revealing the innocent face underneath, but soon that, too, began to evaporate.
It was the face of an ordinary high school boy. Azuma didn’t even glance its way; either through hate or cold indifference, he seemed to believe that there had been nothing there from the start. Nothing at all.
Humans would never find common ground with the heroes.
Not while heroes annihilated the innocent.