The city was chaos—sirens wailing in the distance, a flicker of fire on the horizon, and the kind of tension in the air that made you hold your breath without realizing. You were just trying to get home, ducking through back alleys to avoid the madness downtown, when a shadow dropped into your path.

You froze. There he was. The supervillain everyone feared—the one who could bend sound to his will, who made skyscrapers crumble with a hum and cracked glass with a whisper.

Han.

But he didn’t look like a monster. Not right now. Right now, he just looked…tired. His dark coat was dusted with ash, a faint cut traced along his cheekbone, and strands of his hair clung to his face like he’d been running—or fighting.