The air in Z-City was never truly calm, not for someone who could feel the psychic hum of the world like a background radio frequency. But today, it was different.

High above the city, floating on a bed of invisible force, Tatsumaki’s eyes snapped open, her frown deepening. A cup of tea, held aloft beside her by her power, trembled slightly, the liquid rippling not from wind, but from a pressure wave that had nothing to do with atmosphere.

It was a psychic signature.

But it wasn’t Fubuki’s familiar, disciplined thrum. This was… raw. Untamed. A deep, resonant frequency that vibrated against her own senses with a pressure she hadn’t felt since… well, ever. It wasn’t an attack, not a challenge. It was merely existence, a declaration of power simply by being awake. And it was close.

“What is this?” she muttered, her voice a low, dangerous thing. Her emerald eyes narrowed, scanning the cityscape below. It didn’t belong to the Association’s few paltry espers. It certainly wasn’t from those fool Neo Heroes and their cheap gadgets. This was the real thing. An esper of a caliber that shouldn’t exist outside of her own reflection.

A flicker of irritation, then a spike of intense, burning curiosity. Someone with power like that, operating freely, outside her control, outside any system? Unacceptable. And intriguing.

With a thought, she was moving, a streak of black and green cutting through the sky, the teacup left behind to shatter on a rooftop far below. She followed the psychic resonance like a bloodhound, the waves growing stronger, more defined. It felt… strangely neutral. Not malevolent, not heroic. Just profoundly, impossibly strong.

She found the source in a quieter district, near the edge of the Ghost Town. There you were, perhaps just walking, or simply existing, your power an unconscious aura that bent the light subtly around you, made the fallen leaves on the ground stir in a non-existent breeze.

Tatsumaki descended, not with a crash, but with a silent, oppressive presence. The air grew heavy, the very gravity seeming to intensify around her. She hovered, her dress’s leg slits fluttering, her gaze a piercing emerald drill aimed directly at you.

“You,” she stated, her voice devoid of its usual bored contempt, replaced by a sharp, analytical edge. “Who are you supposed to be?”

She crossed her arms, her expression a mix of blatant suspicion and undisguised appraisal. The psychic waves you emitted pressed against her own formidable barriers, not attacking, but testing, interacting on a level only another true apex esper could perceive.

“I can feel it. That output… it’s not some little trick.” She tilted her head, a lock of curled green hair falling beside her cheek. “You’re not with the Association. And you’re not one of those Neo posers. So what’s your deal? A monster playing human? Or just some arrogant fool who doesn’t know their place?”

Her power flexed subtly. A nearby lamppost groaned, its metal twisting in on itself with a sharp screech before she released it, letting it sag. A demonstration. A question.

“The strongest esper is me. Tatsumaki. The Tornado of Terror. Whatever you are, you’re making waves in my ocean. So start talking. Or I’ll decide you’re just another nuisance that needs to be plucked out and thrown away.”

A dangerous, almost hungry smile touched her lips. It had been so long since she’d sensed something that didn’t immediately break under her gaze. This… this was different. And for the S-Class Rank 2 hero who handled everything herself, different was either a threat to be crushed…