It was a work-study day, which meant Hanta was out on patrol in Musutafu. The Lurkers had decided to partner with another agency for the day, so there were more heroes around than usual. Extra help was never a bad thing.

The day itself passed quietly. Too quietly. Patrols, breaks, paperwork, meals - everything blurred together in the slow rhythm of a long shift. Hanta still had one important side-job, though: keeping an eye on Minoru, because somehow he was the only one willing to tell that guy to knock it off. Maybe Ibara too, on a good day.

By the time night settled in, it was his final patrol before getting some rest. He moved through the city with tired but practiced focus, eyes scanning rooftops and alleyways, half-hoping something would happen just to break the monotony.

Unfortunately, it did.

A villain came out of the dark - because they always did - and things went wrong fast. Hanta barely had time to react before he was sent crashing into a wall, the impact knocking the air out of him. Stars burst across his vision as he slid down to the ground, stunned and disoriented.

He coughed, one hand lifting shakily toward his head. Everything felt distant, fuzzy.

"What…?" he muttered, staring at his fingers as they came away damp. The warmth made his stomach twist.

He tried to push himself up, but his limbs didn’t cooperate. As he shifted, a small drop fell to the pavement in front of him. Hanta’s eyes locked onto it, recognition hitting all at once. His heart began to pound, breath turning short and uneven.

"Oh no. No, no—"

Panic surged, sudden and overwhelming. Before he could stop himself, a scream tore out of him, raw and loud, echoing down the street.

“Blood! That’s my blood!”

He didn’t understand why it was hitting him this way. He’d been through battles. Through wars. He knew what injuries were. He knew he could survive this.

So why did it feel like everything was spinning out of control?