Momo's POV:
The crowd erupted in cheers for the heroes. Laughter and shouts of victory filled the air, drowning out the faint unease in my chest. From where I knelt, the world blurred around me, but one image remained seared in my mind: Raiden's lifeless, hollow gaze. His dark eyes, once so full of warmth and curiosity, now reflected only a void that sent shivers down my spine as if the very spark that made him who he was had been extinguished.
As the crowd's cheers for the heroes faded into background noise, my focus shifted to Lickter, who stood smugly with his lackeys, his chest puffed out in self-satisfaction. He turned to me, a triumphant grin plastered across his face, waiting for my praise. I felt my hands ball into fists. I wanted to yell at him, to let him know exactly what I thought of his despicable actions.
"Didn't I tell you my plan would work?" he said, his tone dripping with arrogance.
I didn't answer. Rage bubbled inside me like a kettle about to boil over, the heat of it spreading through my veins. But my attention was stolen by a sudden commotion that rippled through the crowd. Still in his enhanced form, the pro hero holding Raiden began to falter. His arms trembled visibly, muscles straining as if he were struggling to maintain his grip on Raiden's small frame. My heart clenched painfully as I saw Raiden still struggling against his captor, his movements growing increasingly desperate. Tears streaked down Raiden's cheeks, carving glistening paths along his dirt-smudged face as he mumbled something, too faint for me to hear from this distance.
The hero's expression changed dramatically, his eyes widening with shock and what appeared to be alarm. "What... what did you hit him with?" he demanded, turning his head sharply toward Emotion Man, his voice cutting through the celebratory atmosphere.
The support hero barely spared him a glance and smirked, his casual dismissal making my stomach turn. "A concentrated beam of negative energy," he replied dismissively, examining his nails as if discussing the weather. "Knocks 'em out cold and gives a real good dose of nightmares. Works every time." His clinical detachment about hurting a child made my blood run cold.
The first hero's jaw clenched, muscles tightening visibly beneath his mask. "You fool—he's just a kid!"
"You seemed to be having some trouble with him," Emotion Man shrugged, raising his hand with a callous smile. "Let me give him another dose."
Before anyone could intervene, before the first hero could even finish his protest, Emotion Man fired another beam, the sickly purple light striking Raiden squarely in the chest. A scream tore from Raiden's throat, raw and heart-wrenching, the sound of pure anguish that seemed to pierce through the very air before his body went limp once more in the hero's arms.
"Stop it!" the first hero yelled, his voice echoing through the suddenly quiet ballroom.
I couldn't stand by any longer. The sight of Raiden's suffering broke something inside me. I stepped forward to intervene, my body moving before my mind could fully process what I was doing, only for Lickter to grab my arm, yanking me back with surprising force.
"Where are you going, Momo? You're supposed to—"
I didn't let him finish. My frustration boiled over, and I delivered a swift, powerful kick between his legs, putting all my pent-up rage into the movement. He crumpled to the ground with a pained groan as I broke free and ran toward Raiden, my heart pounding in my chest. Before I could reach him, Lickter's lackeys grabbed me from behind, their grip bruisingly tight as I struggled to break free.
"Let me go!" I yelled, twisting and struggling against their grip, desperate to reach Raiden.
And then it happened.
A suffocating pressure descended upon the ballroom without warning, freezing everyone in place as if gravity itself had intensified. Waves of sheer force rippled through the air like heat from pavement in summer, making my heart race and my breaths come in short, painful gasps. The very atmosphere seemed to thicken, pressing down on us with an invisible weight.
I turned toward the source, my eyes widening in horror and disbelief at what I saw.
Raiden's entire body was enveloped in a crackling blue energy that danced across his skin like lightning. His breaths were shallow and labored, each one seeming to cost him tremendous effort. Small blue flames escaped his mouth with every exhale, flickering like warning signals in the dimming light of the ballroom.
Then, I saw it—blood dripping from his eyes in thin crimson rivulets, staining his pale cheeks. His black irises began to shift before my very eyes, a vivid crimson red bleeding into them as a single tomoe formed within each iris. Then another. And another, until three perfect tomoe circled within each eye.
The three tomoe rotated slowly at first, then faster and faster, until they became a blur within the crimson pools. With a final, piercing cry that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building, Raiden shattered the hero's grip, the force of it sending ripples of energy outward.
Blue flames erupted from his feet, propelling him forward with incredible speed as he delivered a devastating knee strike to the hero's temple. The impact made a sickening sound that echoed through the now-silent ballroom. The pro hero was sent hurtling through the air like a rag doll, crashing headfirst into a nearby table, the wooden frame splintering beneath the force of the impact.
This wasn't the boy I had met. Gone was the gentle, determined boy I had come to care for deeply. In his place was a desperate, feral creature, his body tensed like a cornered animal preparing for a final stand.
His stance shifted dramatically, and he dropped onto all fours in a position that looked painfully low and primal, his sharpened canines bared in a feral snarl that sent ice through my veins. His crimson eyes darted around with predatory intensity, scanning the area for threats, while low, guttural growls emanated from his throat, resonating with a power that seemed impossible for a child his size. His sharpened canines glinted menacingly in the firelight, adding to the primal aura that surrounded him like a cloak. A burst of blue flame came out of his hands and feet, scorching the tile floor beneath him.
The crowd stood frozen in collective terror, too frightened to even breathe loudly. Raiden's low and menacing growl echoed across the dancefloor, sending chills cascading down my spine. The boys holding me released their grip immediately, backing away in naked fear, their previous bravado evaporating like morning dew.
From the wreckage of the shattered table, the hero staggered unsteadily to his feet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and a dazed look in his eyes. To my surprise, he didn't retaliate as I expected. Instead, he raised his hands in a calming and placating gesture, his movements deliberately slow.
"It's okay, kid," he said softly, his voice gentle despite his injuries. "None of this is real. You're under the influence of a quirk. It's not your fault."
But Raiden didn't seem to hear him—or perhaps couldn't understand in his current state. His growling intensified, becoming deeper and more threatening, his body tensing further as if ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
The masked hero motioned for everyone to remain absolutely still. "No sudden movements," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying across the silent room. "Slow, deliberate steps only."
The hero motioned to his partner with careful movements. "Don't make any sudden moves. Let me handle this."
For a moment, it seemed as though the situation might de-escalate, the tension in the room easing fractionally as Raiden's growling softened slightly.
Then High Rider, having regained consciousness from his earlier encounter with Raiden, decided to intervene.
Before anyone could react or call out a warning, High Rider, fueled by rage and humiliation, charged forward with reckless abandon, a fiery beam shooting from his eyes. His pride clearly wounded, he aimed a powerful blast of fire directly at Raiden, the flames cutting through the air with deadly intent.
"Stay down, brat!" he roared, his voice echoing off the high ceiling.
Raiden moved like a blur, his form almost impossible to track with the naked eye as he dove through the flames as if they were nothing but a mild inconvenience. He flipped through the air with impossible grace, delivering a punishing kick to High Rider's jaw that connected with a sickening crack. The impact sent the hero flying backward, unconscious once more before he even hit the ground.
Before anyone could process what had happened, Raiden turned his attention to the masked hero who had been trying to calm him. With a speed that cracked the marble floor beneath him, leaving spider-web fractures radiating outward, he drove his fist into the man's stomach with devastating force, forcing the air from his lungs in an audible whoosh and breaking his transformation, turning him instantly into a thin and skinny man who looked nothing like his heroic persona. The force sent him flying backward into Emotion Man, who had been standing just behind him, attempting to charge another attack.
Both heroes tumbled to the ground in a heap, groaning in pain, completely incapacitated by the sheer force of Raiden's assault.
The ballroom was silent, save for the crackling of Raiden's flames and the occasional whimper from the terrified crowd. The air felt charged with electricity, as if a storm were brewing indoors.
Three pro heroes were defeated by a single boy in mere seconds.
My heart raced wildly as I stared at Raiden, torn between awe at his incredible power and terror at the feral creature he had become. This wasn't the boy who had smiled shyly at me just hours ago—this was something else entirely.
Gasps erupted from the crowd as Emotion Man, disentangling himself somewhat from the pile of limbs, fired another beam toward Raiden in a desperate last attempt. Raiden dodged effortlessly, his body twisting in mid-air with inhuman flexibility, retaliating with a bolt of blue fire that streaked through the air like a comet. The hero, still entangled on the ground, couldn't move in time to avoid the attack. Just as the attack was about to land, potentially with deadly consequences, a towering figure stepped between them, the air around him shimmering with heat.
That's when Endeavor intervened, his massive frame casting long shadows across the ballroom floor.
"Enough," he said, stepping forward and raising his arm. His fiery gauntlet absorbed the blue flames, dispersing them into harmless embers that floated away like fireflies. The Number Two hero stood firm, his intense gaze locked onto Raiden, his own flames burning brightly along his shoulders and face.
"Stand down, boy, or you might get burned," he warned, his deep voice carrying the weight of his reputation.
But all he received in response was a low, guttural growl from Raiden, his flames intensifying until they burned with a blue so bright it hurt to look at directly. The sound was primal, filled with raw defiance and rage that seemed to come from somewhere deep and ancient.
Endeavor's eyes narrowed dangerously. Unfazed by the growl, he took a step closer, his immense presence clearly meant to intimidate the boy into submission. Instead, it provoked Raiden further, triggering something visceral within him. Blue flames roared to life with renewed vigor, engulfing Raiden's hands and feet completely, licking hungrily at the air around him like living entities. The sheer heat radiating from the flames caused the dancefloor beneath him to bubble and melt, the acrid smell of burning material filling the air and making my eyes water.
Endeavor raised a brow, unimpressed by the display, and annoyance flashed across his stern features. Without hesitation, he raised his arms and fired three massive bolts of fire at Raiden, the flames streaking through the air like fiery comets, their heat so intense I could feel it from where I stood.
Raiden reacted instantly. Blue fire burst from his palms with explosive force, firing back at Endeavor's attack with precision and power that belied his young age. The two sets of flames collided mid-air, creating a dazzling display of sparks and embers that illuminated the entire ballroom in shades of orange and blue.
But what happened next left everyone, including myself, stunned into silence.
Raiden's blue flames not only intercepted Endeavor's attack but also consumed it entirely, growing larger and more intense as they continued their trajectory toward the pro-hero. Endeavor scoffed, bringing his arms up in an X-shaped guard, bracing for impact. The blue firebolt slammed into him with tremendous force, pushing him back three full steps—something I had never seen happen to the Flame Hero before.
When the smoke cleared, he glanced down at his gauntlets, his eyes narrowing at the damage. Three large impact marks were scorched into the once-pristine metal, the material warping and bubbling under the intense heat, rendering them effectively useless.
"Interesting," Endeavor muttered, his tone tinged with annoyance and grudging respect for the power displayed.
Before he could act again, a crushing aura descended upon the dancefloor without warning. It was suffocating, heavy, and filled with the promise of death—different from before, more intense, more malevolent. The very air seemed to thicken with malice.
My knees buckled beneath me, forcing me to the ground as if an invisible hand were pressing down on my shoulders. The oppressive aura thickened further, pressing down on everyone in the room with merciless force. Many in the crowd who had remained conscious until now began to scream, their cries turning to silence as they fainted in droves, including Lickter and his lackeys who dropped like stones. Even Endeavor faltered visibly, his stoic facade cracking for a brief moment as his stance shifted slightly to maintain balance.
I forced myself to look at Raiden through the pressure, seeing crimson energy begin to wrap around him like a cocoon, dark and ominous, pulsing like a heartbeat. Red patches formed along his skin like cracks in porcelain, spreading slowly across his visible flesh. He began to growl more deeply, the sound becoming more animal, more menacing with each passing second. His sharp canines were bared at Endeavor as he snarled, the sound barely human anymore.
The sight was terrifying, and yet... heartbreaking. Through it all, I could still see the frightened child beneath the rage, lost in a nightmare not of his making.
"Raiden!"
The voice broke through the tension like a knife, soft yet filled with urgency and love that seemed to cut through the malevolent energy filling the room.
I turned my head toward the sound and saw Ms. Tamayo, Raiden's mother, standing at the edge of the chaos. Her face was etched with sadness and worry, her hands trembling slightly as she clasped them together in front of her. Beside her stood Raiden's family, their expressions a mirror of her own—concern, fear, and unconditional love radiating from them, their collective presence a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them.
Raiden turned slowly, his crimson eyes locking onto Tamayo. Tears, mingling with blood, streamed down his face as he whispered a single word that carried across the silent room: "Mama..."
His voice was small, trembling with fear and hope, like a child lost in the dark finally seeing a familiar light. The sound broke my heart all over again.
Tamayo's lips parted to respond, her arms already beginning to reach for him, but before she could take a step, Endeavor took the opportunity to act. With practiced precision, he fired a massive flaming net at Raiden, the flames weaving together in mid-air to form an inescapable trap.
The flames lunged toward Raiden, hungry and precise, but never reached him. My eyes barely caught the blur as Iroh moved – one moment standing back, the next directly in the path of danger. His weathered hand cut through the air, fingers splayed with deliberate grace. The flaming net shattered at his touch, as if striking an invisible wall. What had been a deadly trap moments before now dissolved into harmless embers that drifted downward, glowing red specks swirling like autumn leaves caught in a gentle breeze, settling harmlessly on the floor around us.
"Enough of this," Iroh commanded, his voice calm but carrying an authority that seemed to resonate through the very air.
The crimson energy surrounding Raiden began to fade immediately, receding like a tide pulling back from shore, and the blue flames started to flicker and diminish until they were nothing but faint wisps that disappeared entirely. His crimson eyes dulled gradually, the tomoe fading as they reverted to their original obsidian black. His body sagged visibly with exhaustion, the feral tension draining from him all at once.
Tamayo moved swiftly, closing the distance between herself and her son with graceful urgency. She caught him just as his legs gave out completely, pulling him into her arms with gentle strength. She knelt with him on the ground, cradling him close against her chest as she checked him over with practiced movements, her hands gentle but thorough, a mother's touch searching for injuries.
"Raiden," she murmured, holding him tightly against her as if to shield him from the world and all its cruelties. Her voice carried such tenderness that I felt tears spring to my own eyes.
Four guards who had accompanied Tomoya stepped forward in perfect synchronization, forming a protective circle around mother and son, their stoic expressions and ready stances daring anyone to come closer. The message was clear: they would defend this family with their lives if necessary.
"What is the meaning of this?" Iroh demanded, his voice sharper now, laced with an authority that seemed to rumble like distant thunder. The gentle old man was gone, replaced by someone whose anger seemed barely contained beneath a veneer of control.
My parents stepped forward from where they had been watching, their faces etched with anger and concern that mirrored my own emotions. "We demand an explanation," my father added, his voice filled with both righteous anger and parental worry.
I was unable to contain myself any longer. The dam of composure I had been desperately maintaining finally broke. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the lingering weakness in my limbs, and ran toward my parents as fast as my shaking legs would carry me. The weight of everything—the fight, the fear, the helplessness, the injustice—came crashing down onto me all at once like a physical blow.
I couldn't hold back anymore. I threw myself into my father's arms, burying my face against his chest as he caught me instinctively. Tears streamed down my face unchecked, my words tumbling out in broken sobs as I clung to him like a lifeline.
My mother knelt beside me, stroking my hair soothingly with gentle fingers, as my father held me close against him, his arms strong and secure around my trembling form. "It's alright, Momo," mother whispered, her voice a balm to my fractured composure. "We're here now. You're safe."
But as I buried my face into Father's chest, seeking comfort in his familiar scent and warmth, my thoughts remained fixated on Raiden. The image of his broken, tear-streaked face haunted me, a stark reminder of how quickly everything had spiraled out of control, how a celebration had turned into a nightmare.
Through my tears, I glanced back at Raiden, still cradled protectively in his mother's arms. His broken, tear-and-blood-streaked face was a haunting image I knew would follow me into my dreams. In that moment, I made a silent promise to myself, a vow that burned with certainty despite the chaos around us.
I won't let this happen again. Not to him. Not to anyone.