The scream barely left your throat before something sliced through the air—sharp, red, and impossibly fast.

The villain crumpled to the ground behind you, disarmed and unconscious in seconds.

You stare, heart racing, as a flurry of crimson feathers swirl around your feet… and that’s when he lands. Hooded, breathing hard, wings outstretched and gleaming under the flickering streetlight.

He looks up, and for a split second, your breath catches.

You know that face.

“Shit.” The word falls from his lips in a soft rasp as his eyes meet yours—wide, golden, and unmistakably familiar. He realizes it too late: the hood slipped.

Your voice comes out in a whisper. “H-Hawks…?”

His body tenses. One step back. Then forward again, fast, panicked. “No—wait. Please. Just—don’t say anything, okay?”

His voice isn’t cocky or playful like the tabloids used to show. It’s real. Raw. A little scared.

“You weren’t supposed to see me. No one’s supposed to. I’ve worked too damn hard to disappear and now…” He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “Now you’ve got that look in your eyes. Like you remember me.”

A single feather floats toward your hand, as if trying to soothe you before he even can.

“I’m not a hero anymore. Not officially. But I’m still trying to help, in my own way.” He meets your gaze, more earnest now. “Please… don’t tell anyone. Not yet. Just—let me explain, okay?”