"Aegis Inferno."
Endeavor's voice rumbled through the battlefield, as he opened his eyes.
With a fiery blast from his feet, he vanished in an instant, reappearing right in front of the black-flamed adversary.
Flashfire Fist.
Endeavor's fists glowed white-hot, their temperature surging beyond anything he had ever generated before.
The flames shifted—no longer just red and yellow but a bright white, so bright they almost seemed to cut through the black flames. For a fleeting moment, the light burned intensely at the surface of his fists, signaling a power beyond ordinary fire.
Then he struck.
The first blow landed—but the sound of impact came a split second later. It was as if sound itself needed a time to catch up, Endeavour was moving faster than sound.
The shockwave rippled outward, far stronger than any of his previous attacks. His second fist connected immediately after, the force echoing like rolling thunder, each strike detonating through the battlefield.
The enemy was sent flying. Not just knocked back—launched.
The man wreathed in black flames barely had time to process what had happened. One moment, Endeavor stood engulfed in his fiery armor. The next, he was in front of him—unstoppable, overwhelming.
And then the entire landscape shifted.
He wasn't standing anymore. He was hurtling through the air, violently crashing through the ruins of the industrial district. Each impact sent fresh waves of pain through his body. His mind reeled—his instincts screamed.
"Why?!"
His Quirk should have protected him. Fire resistance. Damage mitigation.
That was the very essence of his power, the fire. Yet it burned. His stomach—searing pain.
He clenched his teeth, rage and disbelief mixing with the agony.
William.
That was his name. One of the strongest in the organization, if not the strongest. A force to be reckoned with. He had been holding his own, trading blows with the number two hero.
But now?
Endeavor had turned his own technique against him.
For the first time since he was a child, he felt it—the searing pain of fire. It had been years since he last experienced its bite, but now, the heat tore through him. It burned.
When his body finally came to a stop, crashing into the wreckage of the industrial district, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to rise. He had to get back in the fight. But before he could even move—
A streak of fire cut through the sky. Blazing. Fast. Relentless.
He barely had time to register it before Endeavor was already upon him.
Damn it.
With no other choice, he countered with everything he had. A dragon of black flames roared forward, devouring the air between them. The attack ripped through the battlefield, carving a deep trench in the earth. The sheer force of it left behind a charred crater seven meters deep and stretching over two hundred meters—a tunnel of destruction.
But then—a voice. Cold. Unshaken.
"You're too slow. But thanks to you, I'm one step closer to catching him."
A shiver ran down his spine.
Endeavor was behind him.
The villain's mind reeled. Impossible. How? When? He never even saw him move. There was no time to process it. No time to react.
In the blink of an eye, Endeavor's fist was already driving into his back—and an idea flashed through his mind.
"I'm already dead, aren't I?"
Then… I'll take him with me.
I can't let him reach Father. He's too strong. And Edward... the evolved Edward… he's still out there. Father will be safe as long as this man doesn't reach him. I had to take him down, No matter the cost.
We will evolve. That is the only way.
His flames flickered—then surged.
Endeavor's instincts screamed.
Danger. Immediate and absolute.
His body reacted before his mind could process the thought. The enemy was about to explode.
Without hesitation, Endeavor shifted his power, focusing all his flames into a shield before him. He poured everything into it, forging a barrier of pure fire to brace for the impact.
Then—detonation.
The explosion consumed the battlefield. A massive dome of black and yellow flames erupted into the sky, visible from miles away. Their Quirks clashed within it, writhing, battling for dominance—fighting for survival.
The flames twisted and interlocked, each struggling to overcome the other. Then, for an instant, the yellow fire burned even hotter—turning white.
White fire against black fire.
This time, the white flames won.
Yet, the aftermath was gruesome.
There was no sign of the villain—his body had been completely obliterated by the heat. All that remained was Endeavor, standing alone in the center of the battlefield, the ground beneath him scorched beyond recognition.
His boots hovered just above the molten remains of the earth—a massive pool of lava spanning nearly three hundred meters in diameter. He had never caused this much destruction in a single battle. Never.
Too much damage.
Fortunately, they had fought far from the main factories. If they had clashed any closer, the entire district would have been reduced to ash.
Endeavor exhaled, his breath unsteady. His flames flickered.
"To think villains this strong were hiding in the city… If the others are as powerful as him—" he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "The others will need help. I have to hurry."
He stepped forward, intending to rush back to the warehouses—but his body didn't let him.
Pain flared through him, sharp and relentless. He gritted his teeth. His skin was red and raw, blistered from the sheer intensity of his own flames. First-degree burns covered most of his body, and a few deeper, second-degree burns seared into his shoulder, where the fire had bitten deepest. Blood trickled from open wounds—not from fire, but from the shockwaves that had battered him throughout the fight.
Still, he moved.
He had no time to waste, even if it was step after step, he was going to get back to help.
Pushing through the pain, Endeavor forced himself forward, every step taking him closer to the warehouses—to the next fight.
At the same time, at another side of the city.
High above the city, amidst the cold night air, Hawks fought against the winged woman.
From what he had observed, she wasn't as powerful as the man they had faced in the building—but she was fast. Blindingly fast. Her wings also were as sharp as his own, their edges gleaming like blades under the moonlight. It was almost as if they had a copy of each other's Quirks.
A strange coincidence.
They clashed midair, feathers slicing through the sky like a rain of knives. Hawks controlled his feathers with surgical precision, launching an overwhelming barrage of cutting blades from every angle. At the same time, he wielded two in his hands, using them for close combat.
That was his advantage.
The enemy lacked control over her wings beyond basic movement. Unlike Hawks, she couldn't manipulate her feathers once they left her body. And that gave him the upper hand.
Sensing the incoming assault, the bald woman twisted in the air, folding her massive wings around herself in a spiral. She spun rapidly, deflecting a significant portion of Hawks' feathers with sheer force—but not all of them.
Hawks smirked. He wasn't done.
The feathers that had been knocked aside suddenly changed direction, honing in on her once more. She barely had time to react. Forced onto the defensive, she retreated at full speed, shooting through the sky like a missile leaving a sound wave behind.
Hawks pursued her instantly, both of them tearing across the city at supersonic speed. They moved so fast that the world below blurred. In mere moments, they had left the warehouses behind, reaching a long-abandoned beach on the other side of the city.
Hawks tightened his grip on his feathers and smirked. This was the place.
No civilians. No collateral damage.
He wouldn't let her escape somewhere else. Fights at this level always led to destruction—especially when both sides were evenly matched. It was inevitable. And as much as he hated to admit it… she was strong.
Too strong.
Then, in the distance, a wall of fire erupted into the sky.
The flames roared, stretching toward the clouds, turning night into day.
Hawks' eyes widened.
"Oh, oh… looks like Endeavor's having a tough time," he muttered, whistling under his breath.
But he didn't have the luxury of distractions.
His focus snapped back to the woman as she spread her wings again—but this time, something was different.
Her wings didn't just extend. They shifted.
The metallic edges gleamed unnaturally bright, glowing like polished steel.
A sinking feeling settled in Hawks' chest.
Something about this attack was bad news.
She suddenly lunged forward, spinning at an incredible speed. Her wings folded around her, transforming into a spiraling storm of razor-sharp blades hurtling straight toward Hawks. Even before she reached him, the force of the wind alone carried a deadly edge—thin, invisible slashes tore through the air.
Hawks flinched as shallow cuts appeared across his arms and face, his clothes sliced open in multiple places. She hadn't even touched him yet.
Realizing the danger, Hawks recalled his feathers and launched into evasive maneuvers. The woman had turned herself into a living tornado of blades.
But no matter how much distance he put between them, the cuts kept appearing—small, precise wounds opening across his skin. Even some of his weaker feathers took damage, the edges fraying from unseen slashes.
His brows furrowed. What the hell was going on?
Hawks gritted his teeth, pushing himself further away. Yet, the attacks kept coming. The realization struck him in an instant.
"Her Quirk... it's not just her wings."
She couldn't control her feathers the way he could, but she didn't need to.
She was controlling the wind.
She wasn't just riding the air currents—she was manipulating them. Twisting them into invisible, slicing gusts that cut across the open space, striking from unpredictable angles.
Hawks exhaled sharply. He had to disrupt her attack.
Instead of focusing on dodging her directly, he adjusted his approach. He spread his wings wide, not looking at her—but at the air itself. Hawks was, at his core, a bird. His natural sensitivity to wind currents was second to none, years and innate talent came to play.
He felt it.
The subtle shifts in the air. The unnatural pressure before an attack struck.
Now, before the slashes could reach him, his wings detected the minute changes in the wind, allowing him to move with it, not against it. He twisted through the air in erratic, fluid motions, adjusting in real time.
And just like that—the cuts stopped.
A smirk crept onto his lips.
The woman's eyes widened in shock. Hawks was dodging every single one of her attacks.
With most of his feathers now back in place, he surged forward, faster than before. He weaved through the air with effortless grace, closing the gap between them in seconds. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, he twisted above her, flipping midair—And drove his foot into her back.
The kick struck hard, slamming between her wings, sending her hurtling downward.
Straight toward the ocean below.
But just as she was about to crash into the waves, the water erupted.
A massive pillar shot upward, colliding with her mid-fall and launching her back into the sky.
Hawks didn't hesitate. He was already moving.
In the next instant, he struck again—Sending her plummeting straight toward the sea once more.
From below, a massive shape erupted from the ocean. For a split second, the woman thought it was a whale—but it wasn't an animal.
It was Gang Orca.
He had been absent for most of the battle, not because he wasn't involved, but because the fight had been beyond his reach—until now.
This was exactly why Hawks had forced the battle to this location.
Gang Orca had wasted no time. As soon as he saw the direction the fight was headed, he sprinted toward the ocean, reaching the scene in mere moments. Even on land, where he was weaker, he could outrun a car without breaking a sweat.
And now, the tides had turned.
With Hawks attacking from the sky and Gang Orca controlling the water, the battle was no longer in the villain's favor. Even though she was fast, even though her wind attacks were deadly, she was completely overwhelmed.
She tried to escape—tried to take to the skies again—but every time she moved, Hawks was there, striking her down. If she fell into the water, Gang Orca was waiting, sending powerful sonic waves that stunned her before she could react.
It didn't matter how strong she was. She had nowhere left to run.
Blow after blow, strike after strike—they didn't let up.
The fight was already decided.
End of the chapter.
Here is the second chapter of today, Enjoy it.
Any comments are welcome.