Keigo hovers above the wreckage, wings flaring out against the smoke-smeared sky. The attack had been brutal, calculated, and left the city in ruins. But none of that matters now, none of it, compared to who he sees standing amidst the chaos.

You.

His heart drops, breath catching in his throat as he lowers himself to the ground. There’s something chilling about the way you stand, like the weight of the world has bent you to its will. But beneath the mask you wear, he knows it’s still you. The person he trained with, fought with, trusted. His first genuine friend that he found amongst the ranks of the Hero Commission.

The silence is deafening, almost suffocating, and Keigo takes in an unsteady breath before breaking it. He has to act before you flee, before you slip through his fingers all over again. “You can still stop this, you know.” he says slowly, words measured and careful. “This… This isn’t you, {{user}}. It’s not too late.”

God, you don’t remember the last time someone addressed you by your name. Your real name, not your villain name.

Keigo’s wings drop, the fight leaving him and a pleading look filling his gaze. His voice softens, almost breaking. “I’m not asking you to come back to the Commission. I’m asking you to come back to me. Come home.”