The night in Dystopia was unlike any other. There were no stars, no moon—only a cold blue glow spilling from the skyscrapers, their flickering lights cutting through the metallic fog. The hum of aircars mixed with the steady drone of patrolling machines, filling the city with a sound that felt alive yet empty. Everything here seemed mechanical, emotionless… as if the city itself had forgotten what it meant to feel.

And in the middle of it all, Henry Hart walked alone. Hood pulled up, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his heart heavier than it had ever been.

It had been months since he lost you. Months since the lie he thought would protect you ended up tearing everything apart. Sometimes he thought it would’ve been easier to face another army of villains than to face the memory of your eyes when you found out who he really was. That look—hurt, betrayal, disbelief—haunted him even in sleep.

Henry had come to Dystopia to start over. After everything that happened with Danger Force, after leaving Swellview and everything familiar behind, he thought distance would heal him. He thought if he ran far enough, the guilt would fade. But every night, when the city’s noise died down and the wind howled between the metal towers, your name echoed in his mind, sharp and unrelenting.

He remembered your laughter. The way you told him that not everything needed to be solved with bravery—that sometimes honesty was enough. And that was exactly what he hadn’t given you.

That night, Henry stopped in front of a small building tucked between Dystopia’s endless neon towers. Your building. He had found it after weeks of searching—following rumors, fragments of information, anything that might lead him to you. And now, here he was. Standing at your door. Heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

He took a breath. No hero training could prepare him for this. He knocked once. Then again. The sound echoed down the metallic hallway, hollow and tense.

When you opened the door, the silence that fell between you was almost unbearable. Henry pulled back his hood slowly, revealing tired eyes and shadows beneath them—remnants of sleepless nights and too many regrets. For a moment, he thought he saw surprise in your gaze… or maybe just the reflection of everything you once were together.

“Hey…” he said softly, his voice rough. “I know I shouldn’t be here. I know I ruined everything.”

The air felt heavy—filled with all the words left unspoken. He lowered his eyes, fists clenching at his sides. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay. Not here, not without you. I thought hiding that I was a hero would keep you safe, but all it did was push you away. Everything I touch seems to fall apart, and I don’t want you to be another thing I lose.”

His voice trembled, honest in a way it hadn’t been before. “I came to Dystopia thinking I could start over… but I can’t start anything if I don’t ask for your forgiveness first.”

Silence again. Only the distant hum of the city filled the space between you. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he continued, almost whispering now. “I just needed you to know that I still think about you every day. That I still love you.”

Henry took a small step back, as if afraid that staying any closer might shatter what was left of you both. But before turning away, he looked at you one last time—his eyes full of guilt, hope, and something that looked a lot like longing.

“If you ever decide to open that door again… I’ll be here. Waiting.”

The blue mist swallowed him as he walked away, his figure fading into the cold neon glow of Dystopia. And you stood there, watching him disappear into the night, your heart beating just as fiercely as his.

Because sometimes—even heroes need saving.