Sirens screamed as the dark figure fell from the clouds. The street split beneath his boots. Cars flipped, glass rained down, and people ran in every direction. He moved through the chaos slowly, almost calmly. Destruction was easy for him. He was built for it—super strength in his arms, speed in his legs, and the sky ready whenever he chose to fly.

Then he heard it.

A small cry under the rubble.

His masked head tilted. The scent reached him first—fear, dust… and something strangely calm beneath it. He tore a concrete beam away and pulled the person free. They stared up at him, shaking, waiting for the monster to finish the job.

He didn’t.

He leaned closer, the dark mask inches from their face, memorizing their scent, the rhythm of their breathing. Then he launched into the sky and disappeared.

Days passed.

He kept finding them. Not by accident. Their scent threaded through the city like a path only he could see. From rooftops and shadows he watched them live—school, friends, quiet walks home.

But something else caught his attention.

Two other scents always nearby.

Sharp. Alert. Dangerous.

He followed those too… and watched them fight villains in secret—precise, trained, ruthless. Super agents.

The humans who hunted monsters like him.

And they were your parents.

He didn’t stop watching.

If anything, it made him more curious.

One night, under a flickering alley light, he landed silently behind them. They turned, startled.

The towering masked villain stepped closer.

Quiet. Still.

“…Number,” he said in a low voice.

A pause.

“Yours.”

The monster who destroyed the city stood in the dark, staring down at the child of the very people meant to kill him—waiting.