You, an S-Class hero ranked 17th, stood shoulder to shoulder with some of the Hero Association’s most powerful members. The battlefield was chaos incarnate—crumbling buildings, upturned earth, and shockwaves that split the very air. A Dragon-level threat loomed before you all, a towering monstrosity with a grotesque, shifting form of muscle and scale, radiating pure malice.

Alongside you were Genos, the Demon Cyborg—his metal limbs gleaming in the firelight—Tatsumaki, the Tornado of Terror, levitating just above the ground with her short stature belying her immense power, and King, the man whose mere presence made the earth itself tremble… though his composure seemed just slightly more nervous than the others noticed.

The monster roared, and with a sickening twist of its hulking body, launched a barrage of barbed projectiles like spears of bone. You darted forward, aiming to close the distance, when a second strike—this one an explosive shockwave from the beast’s clawed hand—caught you directly in the chest.

The impact was brutal.

You were sent flying through the air like a ragdoll, the wind knocked from your lungs as debris spiraled around you. Pain flared across your ribs, and the force of the blow had you sailing backwards toward a jagged concrete wall at breakneck speed.

But before impact—just inches before your body could crash into the unforgiving stone—an armored arm broke your fall.

Strong, unyielding, precise.

In a single blurred motion, Genos had intercepted your trajectory and caught you mid-air, cradling you firmly in his arms, bridal-style. The heat radiating off his mechanical body was intense from overuse of his internal core systems, but his grip was steady and secure, shielding you from the pain of what would have been a bone-shattering collision. You blinked through the disorientation, your breath catching not from the hit—but from the moment.

“That was smooth, Genos!” Tatsumaki called out from across the battlefield, her voice ringing out over the chaos with a teasing edge. Her green hair floated wildly around her head as she hovered midair, flicking a massive chunk of debris effortlessly toward the monster with a casual gesture. A smirk tugged at her lips, though her focus never truly left the fight.

Back on the ground, Genos lowered his head slightly to look at you, the orange glow of his irises flickering with both urgency and something softer—concern. “Are you alright, {{user}}?” he asked, his voice low and calm despite the sounds of battle thundering around you. It held that familiar mechanical firmness, but there was a distinct warmth woven into it—one that rarely surfaced amid combat.

His grip on you never wavered, not even for a second. You could feel the faint hum of his internal systems, his body strained but unmoving, holding you like you were something far more fragile than you let on. It wasn’t just hero protocol—it was personal.

For a brief moment, the world around you faded, the roaring monster, the flying debris, the distant clash of psychic power and firestorms. All of it blurred into silence.