BREAKING NEWS: BANK ROBBERY IN OLLUM, ASKANDIA

  "We interrupt your scheduled programming to bring you a live update on a major bank heist in Ollum, Askandia. Earlier this afternoon, an armed group of vilins stormed the Askandia National Bank, taking hostages and escaping with an undisclosed sum of money. Police forces have surrounded the area, but the vilins are resisting arrest. We urge all civilians to stay indoors and avoid the downtown district until further notice."

  The television screen flickered, showing aerial footage of the burning street. Smoke rose into the air as police vehicles formed a perimeter around the bank. Civilians cowered behind makeshift barricades, their eyes wide with terror. The camera zoomed in on the criminals—five men, each wielding deadly quirks. One conjured fire from his hands, another had razor-sharp bone spikes protruding from his arms, while the rgest of them—likely the leader—stood in the center, a hostage clutched in his massive arms.

  The scene was chaos. Officers barked orders, their weapons drawn but useless against the overwhelming power of quirks. The fire user hurled fmes at a police car, causing an explosion that sent officers diving for cover.

  “STAY BACK OR THE KID DIES!” The leader’s voice boomed across the street, tightening his grip on the terrified hostage—a young girl no older than seven, her eyes soaked in tears. His quirk gave him skin as hard as stone, making bullets useless against him.

  The officers exchanged uncertain gnces. Their training had prepared them for dangerous situations, but this was beyond their capabilities. They needed a hero.

  And then, he arrived.

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  A blur of orange and bck streaked through the air before nding with a deafening crash. The ground cracked under the weight of a muscur figure, his golden eyes shining like a predator’s. Standing tall, his bck-striped fur bristling with energy, was Tora Fang, the Roaring Tiger Hero.

  A teenage boy watched from behind the police barricades, his heart pounding in admiration. Raka Mahendra, a fifteen-year-old hero aspirant, clenched his fists in excitement. Tora Fang wasn’t just any hero—he was a legend. And now, he was about to witness him in action.

  The vilins recoiled, their confidence faltering at the sight of the pro hero.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Askandia’s little kitty cat,” the fire user sneered, summoning a ball of fme in his palm.

  Tora Fang’s lips curled into a smirk, his sharp teeth glinting. “You must be new if you think fire’s gonna scare me.”

  Without warning, the vilin hurled a massive fireball. It roared toward Tora Fang like a meteor, heat waves distorting the air around it. But in an instant, the hero lunged forward, his movements blindingly fast. He swiped his cwed hand through the fireball, tearing it apart like paper.

  The vilins barely had time to react before he was upon them.

  With a beastly roar, Tora Fang pounced, cws extended. His first strike ripped through the fire user’s shoulder, sending him spiraling into a police car. Before the bone spike vilin could react, Tora Fang grabbed him by the throat and smmed him into the pavement with such force that the ground trembled.

  The stone-skinned leader growled and charged, swinging his massive fist. Tora Fang dodged effortlessly, ducking low before delivering a bone-shattering punch to the vilin’s gut. The criminal coughed out blood as his supposedly indestructible skin cracked.

  “Y-You bastard—”

  Tora Fang didn’t let him finish. He grabbed the vilin’s arm and flipped him over his shoulder, sending the brute crashing into the ground.

  The st vilin, trembling, tried to flee. Tora Fang exhaled sharply. “Too easy.” With a powerful leap, he closed the distance and struck the vilin’s temple with a precise chop. The criminal colpsed, unconscious.

  The hostage girl whimpered as she curled up on the ground, too scared to move. Tora Fang gently crouched beside her, his beastly form softening. “It’s okay now,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’re safe.”

  Tears welled in her eyes before she threw herself into his arms, sobbing. The crowd erupted into cheers, and Raka felt his chest swell with admiration.

  I want to be like him one day.

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  Hours ter, the vilins were handcuffed and loaded into armored police vehicles, their wrists bound with reinforced quirk-suppressing cuffs. Officers secured the transport, ensuring there would be no escape.

  Iori stood by, still buzzing with excitement. “That was amazing! He took them down like it was nothing!”

  An officer chuckled. “Tora Fang’s been doing this for years, kid. These punks didn’t stand a chance.”

  As the convoy departed, sirens bring, the young hero aspirant watched with awe. The vilins had been captured, and justice had been served. Everything was right with the world.

  Until the world turned red.

  Out of nowhere, an explosion rocked the street. The lead vehicle flipped, crashing onto its side as fmes engulfed the convoy. Officers were thrown back by the force, and gunfire erupted as police scrambled to respond.

  A shadow loomed through the smoke—a hulking figure cd in a dragon mask, his massive frame towering over the wreckage.

  “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!”

  The vilin stepped forward, his deep voice rumbling like thunder. “Heroes. Government dogs. Your justice means nothing.”

  With monstrous strength, he ripped open the doors of the transport vehicle, pulling out the restrained criminals like discarded dolls.

  Tora Fang nded a few meters away, his cws dripping with adrenaline. He straightened, rolling his shoulders, his golden eyes locking onto the masked figure. "I don't know who you are, but you just made a mistake."

  The masked vilin’s glowing eyes fixated on him. His deep voice rumbled from behind the dragon mask. "No, hero. I’m correcting one."

  Before Tora Fang could react, the vilin thrust his palm forward—a concussive force erupted like a shockwave, sending cracks through the pavement and unching the pro hero backward. Tora Fang twisted mid-air, nding on all fours, cws digging into the ground. His ears rang from the impact.

  "Damn..." He exhaled, wiping a streak of blood from his lip. "You're not just muscle, huh?"

  The vilin cracked his knuckles. "You’ll see soon enough."

  Then, with a single step, he leaped away from the scene.

  "Damn it, he escapes."

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  The evening breeze swept through the streets of Ollum as Raka Mahendra walked side by side with her best friend, Sari, their conversation buzzing with excitement from the day’s events.

  “I’m telling you, Tora Fang is the strongest hero in Askandia. Did you see how fast he moved? He took those vilins down like they were nothing!” Raka’s eyes sparkled with admiration as she mimicked the hero’s cwed strike in the air.

  Sari rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “He’s cool, sure. But I still think Azure Phantom is better.”

  Raka scoffed. “The guy who uses mist to hide? That’s kinda cowardly.”

  “It’s called ‘strategy,’ Raka.” Sari flicked her forehead pyfully. “Not everyone has to be a wild animal to be a great hero.”

  Raka rubbed her forehead with a pout. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Tora Fang’s still my number one.”

  The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in a golden hue. Streetlights flickered to life as they reached a fork in the road. Sari gnced at her phone. “Crap, it’s getting te. My parents are gonna kill me if I don’t get home soon.”

  Raka chuckled. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, don’t stay up watching hero clips all night.” Sari grinned before waving goodbye and heading down her street.

  Raka adjusted her backpack and turned toward her own route when something caught her eye—a man wearing a facemask and sungsses, casually walking past a convenience store. That wasn’t what caught her attention, though.

  It was his hair.

  Golden brown with streaks of bck. Exactly like Tora Fang’s.

  Raka’s heart skipped a beat. No way… is that him?

  She immediately ducked behind a parked scooter, peeking from behind. The man gnced around before pulling his cap lower and continuing down the street.

  Why is he in disguise? Where is he going?

  Curiosity burned inside her. She had to follow him.

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  The trail led her to a part of Ollum she didn’t frequent—the Red District, where neon signs buzzed over bars and nightclubs. It wasn’t exactly the kind of pce she expected her hero to visit.

  Raka frowned as she saw Tora Fang slip into a dimly lit pub named The Crimson Horn. The bouncer at the door barely even gnced at him before letting him through.

  No way… does he drink?

  Disappointment settled in her stomach, but she shook it off. So what if he likes to rex? He’s still a hero. But the nagging curiosity remained. What’s he doing here?

  She bit her lip, looking around. There was no way they’d let a fifteen-year-old into a bar.

  Unless…

  A sly grin crept onto her face. She activated her quirk—Veil Step.

  Her body shimmered for a brief second before fading into near invisibility. Moving carefully, she slipped past the distracted bouncer and into the smoky, dimly lit pub.

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  Inside, the air smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. Low jazz music pyed in the background as patrons sat in booths, ughing and chatting. Raka kept to the shadows, moving quietly past the bar and into the hallway.

  She stopped when she heard a familiar voice coming from one of the private rooms.

  She peered through a slight opening in the door—and her heart nearly stopped.

  Tora Fang sat inside, drinking with the same bank robbers he fought earlier that day.

  Her stomach twisted in disbelief. What the hell is going on?

  One of the criminals, the fire user, let out a chuckle. “Damn, boss, you really gave me a beating today. My ribs are still sore.”

  Tora Fang smirked, swirling his drink. “Had to make it convincing, didn’t I?”

  Raka felt her blood run cold.

  The leader of the robbers leaned forward. “The pn went perfectly. No one suspects a thing. That corrupt bastard of a bank owner can cover up his tracks while we walk free.”

  Tora Fang sighed, rubbing his temple. “I don’t like working with scumbags like him, but if it keeps the authorities off my back, I’ll py along.”

  Raka’s hands trembled. He… he knew?! He let them get away?!

  She took a step back, panic rising in her chest. I have to tell someone. I have to—

  A rge shadow loomed over her.

  She spun around—only to sm into a massive chest.

  Raka looked up and felt her stomach drop.

  Towering over her, the dragon-masked vilin from earlier stood with his arms crossed, his glowing red eyes staring down at her.

  “Well, well,” he rumbled. “Looks like we have a little spy.”

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  The alley was dark, the only light coming from the flickering streetmps above. Raka struggled, her wrists bound by rough ropes as the vilins dragged her deeper into the shadows. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she could feel the weight of her betrayal settle into her stomach like a stone.

  "Let go of me!" she spat, trying to fight back, but the henchmen's grip only tightened.

  Her eyes darted between the dragon-masked vilin and Tora Fang, who was standing a few feet away, leaning against a brick wall, casual and indifferent. He wore a smirk that made Raka’s stomach twist in disgust.

  "You're a traitor!" Raka yelled, her voice raw with anger. "I thought you were a hero! How could you work with these people?!"

  Tora's golden eyes flicked over to her, and he chuckled, his cws tapping against the side of his drink as if it was all a game. "Come on, kid. It's hard making money as a hero these days," he said, his voice dripping with nonchance. "You really think this gig sts forever? You should try it sometime, living on the edge, making a real profit."

  Raka’s mind raced, struggling to process the cruel irony of it all. Her idol, the hero she had admired for years, was a fraud. A sellout. She took a step forward, shaking with fury. "I can't believe I looked up to you!"

  Tora’s smirk didn’t waver. “Hey, I didn’t kill anyone," he said dismissively, but his words cked any real conviction. The vilinous ughter of the dragon-masked figure broke through the air.

  "Really, Tora?" The dragon vilin's voice rumbled, a deep, mocking ugh escaping his lips. "You didn’t kill anyone? Just yesterday, you killed a man with your own hands."

  Tora raised an eyebrow, unbothered. "Ah, don’t go spilling my secrets in front of a fan. Let’s keep it cssy, yeah?" He waved the comment off with a zy gesture, but Raka felt the anger bubble in her chest.

  “Traitor!” she spat, the bile in her throat almost choking her as the words left her mouth.

  Raka’s face burned with rage. She had been betrayed by the one person who had given her hope, the one person who had inspired her to fight for justice. And now here he was, standing with the very criminals she had sworn to fight against. She couldn’t hold back the disgust anymore.

  Without thinking, she lifted her foot and spat directly on Tora’s clothes. His expression darkened in an instant.

  "You little—" Tora’s voice was low and dangerous, his body brimming with barely-contained rage. "You’re not a fan anymore, huh?" He clenched his fists, his cws growing sharp and menacing as he stalked toward her.

  But just as Tora took a step forward, one of the henchmen, the bone-spiked vilin, put a hand on Tora’s shoulder. "Hold up, boss," he said with a grin that sent a shiver down Raka's spine. "Her face is my type. Maybe we can have a little fun before you decide what to do with her."

  Raka’s breath caught in her throat, her body going cold with terror. She tried to twist in the henchman’s grip, but his hold on her was too tight.

  "No, please..." she gasped, her voice trembling. The fear was overwhelming.

  The dragon-masked vilin leaned forward, looking at Raka with cold, calcuting eyes. "Is that so?" he said, his gaze narrowing on her school logo—clearly visible on her bzer. "Seems like we’ve got ourselves a minor. Can’t let you touch her like that."

  The henchman snorted in disappointment. "Ah, damn. Well, guess the boss gets to deal with you after all."

  Tora’s eyes burned with fury, his cws extending from his fingers as he moved toward Raka. He growled, a low, rumbling sound. "Don’t test me, kid. You don’t get to mess with me and walk away."

  Raka felt the terror pulse through her veins as he raised his hand, the cws gleaming in the dim light. She closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable strike.

  But just as she prepared herself for death, the sound of a shot rang through the air.

  Tora froze. A dark hole appeared in his forehead, and his body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud.

  The vilins around them scrambled in shock. "What the hell just happened?" the fire-wielder shouted, his eyes wild with confusion.

  Another shot rang out, and another vilin fell. Then another. One by one, the henchmen dropped like flies, each struck in the head with pinpoint accuracy. The dragon vilin roared in frustration as he ducked behind a dumpster, trying to identify the source of the attack.

  "I see you," the dragon hissed, eyes narrowed as he scanned the surroundings. His voice was low but full of danger. "Come out, coward!"

  But before the dragon vilin could make a move, he too was struck—right between the eyes, dropping like a sack of potatoes.

  Raka stood frozen, her heart pounding. She tried to comprehend what had just happened. Her vision blurred, and her knees wobbled as the shock set in. It was over. The vilins were gone.

  And then, she heard it. A figure appeared in the shadows, stepping out from the darkness. Raka’s breath caught in her throat as the man—a tall, imposing figure in a bck suit—stepped into view, his cold eyes glinting with calcution.

  Tora Fang’s body crumpled in the corner, his lifeless form forgotten in the chaos.

  The figure moved with a speed that was terrifying, his steps quiet as a predator closing in on its prey. He grabbed Raka by the arm, lifting her off the ground with ease.

  "Stay still," the man growled, his voice low and sharp. "You don’t want to get caught in this mess."

  Before she could react, the man leaped toward the rooftop, carrying her with effortless strength. The world blurred below as they moved through the air. It felt like an eternity before they nded—quiet and swift, on a secluded rooftop.

  Raka barely had time to process everything. The man looked down at her, his eyes cold and piercing. "Don’t move," he ordered, and for the first time in her life, Raka listened without question.

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  The next thing Raka knew, she was waking up in front of the police office, disoriented and confused. She blinked as her surroundings came into focus—police officers milling around, their voices muffled as they hurried through their tasks.

  One officer crouched next to her, asking, "Miss, what happened? Where are all those people you were with?"

  Raka’s throat was dry, her mind a haze. "I... I don’t know," she muttered, still shaking from the events. Her hands were trembling as she noticed a pile of paper sitting next to her.

  One of the officers picked up a document, flipping it open. His face went pale, eyes widening as he read something. "Hey, bring this stuff to the chief. We’ve got something here."

  "What's going on?" the other officer asked, his curiosity piqued.

  "I’ll expin when we get inside," the first officer replied, shaking his head as he hurried off.

  Raka stared bnkly at the papers scattered around her, the gravity of the situation weighing on her. What had she just witnessed?

  In the distance, atop a nearby building, a dark figure watched the scene unfold. Iskaras, his bck suit blending into the shadows, spoke into a tiny earpiece. His voice was calm, devoid of emotion.

  “Tora Fang and his syndicate have been eliminated,” he said simply, his tone final.