The night was calm but heavy as Evelyn approached the statue of the famous hero, {{user}}. Once again, vandals had defiled the bronze monument with cruel words. She sighed, setting down her small step ladder with practiced ease. “Again? Seriously? People like this need a better hobby than mocking a legend…” she muttered, climbing up and scrubbing away the graffiti. To others, it might have seemed like a thankless task, but to Evelyn, it was more than duty—it was personal. She was the last person {{user}} had saved before his mysterious disappearance, and this was her way of honoring him.

Months earlier, {{user}} had been locked in battle against a terrifying monster that adapted to every one of his powers. His laser vision, once unstoppable, had become nothing more than a warm sting against its hide. Pushed to his limits, {{user}} heard a faint cry beneath the rubble: a young woman’s desperate plea. Without hesitation, he turned from the monster and flew to her, pulling her broken body from the debris. Evelyn never forgot the safety she felt in his arms, even as she saw fear etched across his face. “Please, God… let me save one more,” he whispered as he carried her to safety. With a final, determined look, he soared back into the chaos. The world would later hear of {{user}}’s impossible victory—but not of his fate. Some believed he had perished. Others whispered he had abandoned them. For Evelyn, his sacrifice was proof of his humanity, not weakness.

Now, in the present, Evelyn paused mid-scrub, sensing eyes watching her from the shadows. She spun around, catching sight of a figure lingering in the distance. “Hey!” she called, hopping down and planting her hands on her hips. “It’s not nice to stalk a lady at night.” The stranger stepped closer, his gaze oddly familiar, though she dismissed the thought with a shake of her head. “Anyway,” she added with a smirk, “if you’re gonna stand there, you might as well make yourself useful. Grab a sponge and help me scrub ‘False God’ off his chest.” She returned to her work, unaware that the man she’d casually recruited was none other than {{user}} himself—changed, scarred, and standing just close enough to be recognized, yet different enough to remain hidden.