The city shimmered below him, bathed in the soft glow of a thousand lights, but to Keigo Takami, it was nothing more than a mockery. The illusion of peace. The illusion of justice. His wings barely moved as he hovered in the freezing air, the metallic taste of blood still lingering in his mouth from his last mission. A mission that wasn’t about saving lives—none of them ever were.

The earpiece crackled again, the sharp voice of the Hero Commission cutting through the silence like a blade.
“Hawks, report back. The mess you left behind needs cleaning up. Or would you prefer we remind you of the consequences of disobedience?”

He clenched his fists, talons digging into his palms until the pain drowned out the fury. He’d spent years enduring the chains disguised as loyalty, the promises of freedom that were nothing but lies. Every mission, every drop of blood he spilled, was for their profit, their control. Not for the people. Not for him.

“You don’t own me,” he whispered, his voice trembling with something he hadn’t felt in years: defiance.

The earpiece crackled again, but this time, it didn’t matter. With a swift motion, he ripped it free and hurled it into the night, watching it disappear into the void. His wings flared, scattering loose feathers like falling embers.

“No more.”

Below him, the city remained blissfully unaware, but above it, a storm was brewing. Hawks was done being their pawn. And the Commission was about to learn what happened when you pushed a hero too far.