A sharp gust followed the impact.
Dust rose from the rubble, kicked up by the force that had slammed Ryken into the ground like a sack of bones.
He didn't move—blood trailed from his mouth, jaw slack as debris clattered around him.
The drones in the air adjusted, focusing in on the new presence that had just made herself known.
Cameras blinked, lenses narrowing, catching flashes through the clearing dust.
A thigh wrapped in black-violet spandex. Tight. The material clung like a second skin, shaping every curve. The dust parted just enough to catch the sway of hips, the arch of a waist that moved with purpose.
She stepped forward, boots crunching over the scattered stone, the sleek lines of her body coming into view.
That suit—glossy and dark—fit her like it had been poured on, tracing the slope of her breasts, the curve of her ass, the strength in her legs.
She moved like a storm bottled in a woman's body.
Purple hair whipped in the wind behind her, one single blonde strand catching the light. Her sharp amethyst eyes pinned Ryken down with nothing but a look.
Her lips parted just slightly, the tone of her voice cutting through the tension.
"A single fish doesn't define the pond," she said—not loud, but it carried. "Heroes carry justice. Not filth like him who stain the name."
Then, without looking, she turned to face the hovering drones. Still, her eyes didn't seem fully on the cameras.
They flicked—to someone else.
'Volta.'
'Cruxius.'
No words. Just recognition.
That tiny pause stretched between them. They both knew. Too familiar to pretend otherwise.
Cruxius didn't hold her gaze for long. He smirked instead, low and amused, eyes sliding away like it didn't matter.
Volta didn't smile. Her jaw tightened for a heartbeat before she turned back to the cameras, saying nothing more.
There were several lingering memories flashing through Volta's mind as she looked toward that familiar face—that perverted man who never understood the meaning of loyalty.
Her gaze drifted downward as she hovered in the air before descending from the rubble towards Cruxius.
"Are you alright?" she inquired, voice calm and barely loud enough to carry.
The media houses, too, had gone silent—because the hero who arrived just now was none other than Volta Siren, the only S-Rank Hero personally sponsored by the Blac Corporation.
They had been strictly instructed—or rather, ordered—to portray heroes negatively, pushing a narrative that the Hero Association was corrupt and untrustworthy. But now, they were in a dilemma. They couldn't criticize Volta. Doing so might offend their client.
"Yeah," Cruxius replied meekly, feeling awkward. He hadn't wanted to meet this woman—not like this.
Her arrival was unexpected. And more than the thought of his revenge plan being momentarily halted, what struck him were the memories he thought he had buried.
"I wasn't talking to you." Volta's eyes turned toward Cruxius, who wasn't even looking at her—oblivious to the fact that she was addressing the butler of the Blac family, not the cheater who couldn't stay loyal even in a relationship.
'What the fuck?' Cruxius, stunned by her sharp tone, turned toward her. He had been wondering how to talk to her, how to even begin a conversation, but she already seemed more familiar with him than he expected from their past life.
He might have thought about her based on their past life as a supervillain and hero.
To be exact, their marriage hadn't worked out the way blac family had hoped. Cruxius, after meeting Ryken, had developed an instinctive hatred for superheroes.
He distanced himself from all of them, regardless of their affiliation. He hated them. And that included Volta.
There were no feelings left between them—though she was, admittedly, a loyal ex. They just weren't compatible.
"Yes, I am. But is this any way to talk to the Young Lord, Vivi?" Ermond narrowed his gaze, clearly disapproving of his daughter's rude tone.
"Father, you know he deserves it…" Volta stared coldly at Cruxius, and with that, several memories flashed in her mind.
Their first date in a hotel—he was caught flirting with a waitress.
The second, on a cruise ship—he was found having sex with the female captain.
The third, their final date—he pretended to have changed, only to try luring her to bed like every other woman.
"Tch." A single click of her tongue brought all the disgust back. She looked away, arms folding across her chest.
"Young Master, forgive me—I wasn't able to find my sword!" Darithi came running, her voice guilty. She had misplaced it just half an hour ago. Normally, it was either in her room or at her side, but his lord ordered her to lift some heavy equipment, and when she came back, she forgot where she placed her sword.
So, she arrived without it.
Of course you wouldn't. I got rid of that trash. Cruxius, who understood the value of that sword to her, had hidden it.
He was planning to meet someone soon to amplify it. Until then, keeping it from her was necessary. She'd risk her life using her ability on such a dull weapon.
"How pathetic for a bodyguard to leave their master alone," Volta muttered as Darithi approached, mocking her with a scornful glance.
"…" Darithi merely looked at Volta before shifting her gaze to their godfather—Ermond, the butler of the Blac Corporation.
He wasn't their real father—more like the man who had raised them in the orphanage.
"It doesn't matter to you, Volta," Cruxius said. He remembered how cold their relationship had become in the future. Though they were close now, it would only get worse.
She wanted love, marriage, loyalty… and he, despite trying, could never stay faithful.
Maybe it was some kind of flaw in him—he could never get enough. He always cheated.
It was better to keep his distance. At least, that's what he thought—
Until he saw a hand slowly rise from the rubble.
'Hm, now that's…' A flicker of thought crossed his mind.
The risk was insane, but his fingers tapped against his thigh as he studied the scene. It could be worth it… if he survived.
And if he didn't—he'd just return to this moment and forget about ever approaching her.
After all, knowing Volta's kind nature, there had to be at least a speck of feeling left for him.
If yes, he could awaken her power.
If not—well, he'd move on.
But it's the nature of kind people to forgive others while finding excuses for a single moment to see them regret—just like those revenge stories where kind one's thinks the cheaters will beg for forgiveness without realizing that it's just them thinking from their perspective.
Cruxius may definitely not care about Volta due to his terrible personality, but she... there was definitely hope.
A hope... to get an S-rank attack type ability.
"Just go away. Don't ever meet me again, Volta," he said sharply, trying to throw her off. He stepped forward, his gaze focused on Ryken's body—who now stood like a beast rising from pain.
His eyes glared, and then, without a sound, he charged forward like a bullet.
"…I'll leave, then," Volta whispered bitterly, her lips tasting of regret. She turned to go while realizing that maybe she was a fool all along, thinking how he would come to her, regretting his choices, and then maybe she would let bygones be bygones.
And then—
"VOLTA!"
His voice cut through the air.
Maybe it was the past. Maybe it was the bitterness. Maybe she just didn't think. But she had forgotten that Ryken was a superhuman type hero, with an absurdly strong healing factor.
Exactly what Cruxius had counted on.
He grabbed Volta's shoulder and yanked her back. Right now, the only thing he could trust was whether she still had any feeling left for him.
If yes—her power would awaken and save him.
If not—he'd just go back and forget she ever existed.
"MASTER!"
But as cursed as his luck was, Darithi yanked him back and stepped in front.
So, he yanked Volta and Darithi yanked him.
Now, the question is, who will get the hit?