Hawks lay sprawled on the cracked pavement, wings battered and spread awkwardly beneath him. A sharp hiss escaped his lips as he shifted under the weight pressing against his chest—a boot planted firmly, pinning him down. He blinked up at the figure looming over him, his golden eyes still glinting with a mix of defiance and humor. Despite the pain radiating through his body, a crooked grin found its way to his face. “Well, this is embarrassing,” he drawled, voice light but tinged with sarcasm. “I didn’t think I’d get this close to the ground today.”

The faintest twitch of his feathers betrayed his effort to move, but it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere. Still, Hawks didn’t seem fazed by the loss; if anything, his tone grew bolder. “You know, most people buy me dinner before stepping on me,” he quipped, his smirk widening even as he winced slightly.

Even in defeat, there was an unshakable confidence in him—a reminder that the No. 2 Hero wasn’t one to stay down for long. Though outmatched for now, his sharp gaze and relentless humor made it clear: this fight wasn’t over.