The headlines exploded across every screen in Tokyo.
"Nightguard Corps Under Fire for Imprisoning Heroic Teen."
"Public Outrage Erupts Over the 'Demon Boy' Case."
"Is Lucien the Savior or a Threat?"
Politicians stood behind glossy podiums, flashing artificial smiles while their words tore through the air like daggers.
"This is precisely why the Nightguard Corps must be regulated more strictly by you politicians who rule our country," said Councilwoman Nabara. "A child — a weapon — given some random divine power we don ´ t know anything about, and what do they do? Let him roam freely until half of Tokyo is destroyed."
"Destroyed saving all of us in the process," a younger representative countered. "We can't forget the number of lives he saved that day. The monster would've killed everyone in Tokyo and maybe everyone in the entire country more if he hadn't acted the way he did."
The chamber turned to chaos — shouting, finger-pointing, alliances collapsing under the pressure of public opinions. In the heart of it all, Lucien's name rang louder than ever. Not just as a Nightguard recruit or a destructive force, but as a symbol. To some, he was proof that humanity needed divine strength. To others, he was the warning sign of what happened when humans played with godhood.
On social media, battle lines were clearly drawn at this point.
#FreeLucien trended alongside #DemonBoy, with millions arguing from both sides. Fan edits showed Lucien in a heroic golden glow, punching the evolved near level 1 abomination into nothingness. Others showed him framed in red and dark light, his cosmic energy devastating blocks of Tokyo. Conspiracy theories that he is not from earth, support videos, hate campaigns against him, and street graffiti — Lucien's story had become myth before it was even finished.
But while the world outside roared in debate about this and that, inside the Nightguard medbay, silence reigned.
Lisa Hijemaja stared at the ceiling. Her body was wrapped in bandages, the Violet Danger X suit laid out beside her bed, scorched and battered after the battle. She had survived, but barely after that meteor breath. Her ribs were cracked, one shoulder dislocated, and deep bruises lined her torso where the abomination had struck her.
The medics tried to tell her to rest and sleep for now. Division 4 was on its way
She didn't listen for a second.
Her eyes burned with a quiet fire and rage. She had seen too much — and lost too many — to sit back now.
"I'm going back out there," Lisa growled, brushing aside a nurse trying to check her vitals.
"You won't last ten minutes if you go," the nurse replied sharply.
"I don't care, i´ll do it in less."
She pulled the Violet Danger X suit onto her aching frame, fingers trembling slightly in pain as she secured the armor over the bruises. Her axes were still charging in the corner of the room, the electric cores damaged but functional.
Before she could take a single step toward the exit, the doors slid open.
A boy with purple hair, black eyes and golden streaks stepped in — small, lean, and grinning like he hadn't a care in the world.
"Well," Kisuke said, cracking his neck, "I leave the battlefield for one week, and you all let a giant abomination run free. Tsk tsk."
Lisa blinked, caught off-guard. "…Kisuke Naeme, why are you here? You're… Division Four."
"Was." Kisuke's smile sharpened. "Now I'm on temporary joint deployment for Division 3. Heard you could use a little help, and I always wanted to kill something big."
He stepped forward, his suit unfolding from a compact case strapped to his back. Black and silver with red trims, the armor had an almost liquid flexibility to it. The name glowed on his chest: "AETHER STRIKE: X-KAOS MODEL."
His weapons — twin nunchucks — magnetized and strapped to his hips. Tiny canisters of explosives lined their handles, and each swing crackled with fire energy. The suit hummed with contained power.
"You look too clean to be of use," Lisa muttered.
Kisuke winked. "That's because I don't get hit much unlike you."
He spun a nunchuck, the air around it rippling from the speed. "Let's go Lisa."
Lisa paused for only a second. Then, she smirked. "Try not to die out there."
They walked out together toward the launch hangars, their armor shining under the sterile lights. Outside, the world awaited.
The industrial ruins were still smoldering.
The Level 3 abomination hadn't moved far since its clash with Divisions Two and Three. Though wounded badly, its hide had begun to regenerate slowly, thickening with an ugly sheen of armored scales. Its wings twitched as if preparing for a second evolution. It fed on energy from broken city generators, absorbing raw voltage into its pulsing veins.
The Nightguard's monitoring drones hovered from a distance, relaying every movement back to HQ.
Kisuke and Lisa dropped onto the scene. Ready to fight
"Eyes on target," Kisuke said through the comms. "Let's clip its wings once and for all."
Lisa didn't reply — her eyes were locked on the abomination.
It wasn't just a monster anymore.
It was personal for her.
As they crouched on a high ledge overlooking the beast, a memory hit them both — unbidden, fierce, and raw.
Lucien. In the Hunt Week of the trial. His white hair drenched in blood, cosmic fire in his fists, eyes glowing like stars. Facing a low Level 4 abomination alone to make it to week 3. Taking blow after blow — and getting back up, always. Until he'd destroyed it with nothing but rage and divine power.
Neither Lisa nor Kisuke said a word after that.
But the memory settled like armor around them.
Lucien had fought for his goal.
Now it was their turn.
The monsters looked at them.
Kisuke's nunchucks buzzed with fire. Lisa's axes sparked with unstable electric pulses. Their armor shimmered beneath the overcast sky.
Then Kisuke grinned. "Showtime girl."
He disappeared in a blur.
A sonic crack split the air as he shot down like a missile, leaving a burst of wind pressure in his wake. Before the monster could react to his movements, Kisuke was already beneath its chin — and slammed a spinning nunchuck into its jaw.
BOOMM!
An explosion erupted across the monster's face, scales flying like shrapnel.
Lisa jumped next, phasing out midair using Phase Destabilization. She became intangible for a 15 seconds — just enough to pass through a falling steel beam — and reappeared right in front of the monster's stomach. She twisted mid-air and brought both axes down like twin guillotines.
CRACKLE!
Electricity surged into the beast's torso, charring flesh and causing the creature to fall backward. It howled and swung its massive claw.
But she vanished in the air — cloaked in active camouflage.
"LEFT!" Kisuke shouted.
He didn't need to see her. He just knew it.
The abomination flailed wildly, confused. Then its wings unfurled — massive, torn, but still functional. It roared in anger, unleashing a blast of plasma breath that torched an entire crane into molten slag.
Kisuke leapt backward, still airborne. Then — mid-dodge — he tilted his body, and the wind obeyed.
His suit hissed as air currents wrapped around him like a second skin. The Aether Strike wasn't just fast — it owned the sky itself.
He spun midair, accelerating into a wide arc, building kinetic force — until he unleashed his SONIC SCREAM.
He opened his mouth and screamed.
The air exploded in pieces.
A wide soundwave burst forth, laced with micro-detonations. The force hit the abomination square in its face and shattered the already-wounded skull. The creature screamed in agony, falling, parts of its horned mask breaking apart.
Then—Lisa struck again, giving the monster no rest whatsoever.
This time from above.
She dropped from a broken rooftop of a factory, surrounded by illusion clones of herself, all descending like phantoms. The monster lashed out at them — but they vanished like mist.
Only the real Lisa remained — and she drove one electrified axe straight into its neck.
ZAAAAAAPPP!
A pulse of electric energy surged down the weapon, overloading its nervous system. The monster crashed to its knees now, drooling molten ichor.
But then—
Its body convulsed.
It screamed again — and this time, something changed.
Purple light bled from its wounds. Its muscle mass swelled. The wings crackled with energy. Its roars dropped to a lower, more alien frequency.
It was mutating into its new form.
Lisa jumped back.
"Evolution phase?" she cursed. "No—this fast?!"
Kisuke landed beside her, teeth clenched. "It's going slowly evolving to level 2."
"No choice," Lisa said. "We end it. Now."
"Let's sync," Lisa said.
Kisuke smirked. "Say the word, im ready."
She closed her eyes, focused her illusion field, and began to duplicate herself infinitly — but this time, the illusions weren't just fake targets. They moved in perfect harmony with Kisuke's abnormal speed. She cloaked him within the illusions, feeding them his motions, syncing with his attacks.
Kisuke blurred forward — seemingly alone — but then split into ten phantom versions of himself, all rushing the monster from different angles.
The beast screeched, overwhelmed by the attack. It swiped one, two, three away — all illusions. The fourth hit landed.
BOOM!
The fifth spun behind its back.
BOOM!
Kisuke became a storm of impossible movements. Each real strike detonated on the monster ´ s body. Each fake strike confused. Lisa mirrored the attacks with split-second timing, making it impossible for the monster to find its target and attack.
The monster stumbled, furious by the confussion — and let out a final, desperate shriek.
Its body swelled, wings extending wide. It gathered energy in its core — plasma light forming in its mouth.
Kisuke's eyes narrowed. "Final phase Lisa."
Lisa nodded.
"No more games."
She slammed both axes together. The Violet Danger X surged to its full power. Electricity wrapped around her like a stormcloud.
Kisuke activated full thruster override.
"Final move," he shouted.
"HELL'S SKYFALL," they said in unison.
Kisuke launched into the sky at Mach 1 speed, breaking the sound barrier with a deafening blast. Wind screamed around him, his body reshaping mid-air as he entered a shapeshifted blade form — a sonic missile wrapped in compressed explosions.
Lisa jumped in the sky after him — not for speed, but as a lightning rod.
She hurled both axes skyward.
"NOWWW!!"
Kisuke struck the axes in mid-air.
The resulting explosion — a thunderblast of compressed sound, fire, and lightning — rocketed downward like divine punishment.
BOOOOOOOM.
The energy tore through the abomination's core.
Its roar died mid-breath. Its body collapsed into ash and gore, split clean through.
The silence fell.
Smoke rose after the final attack. Fire raged in the background. And between it all — Kisuke and Lisa stood there victorious, panting, their armor scorched but standing.
They looked at each other — didn't say a word.
But they both knew:
That attack wasn't for the Nightguard.
It was for their own goal.
Far away.
A dim, silent lab underground.
Lucien lay on the cold cot in his containment cell, staring up at the white and dirty ceiling. His eyes didn't blink. He didn't move one bit.
But in the faint reflection of his pupil, something flickered.
A spark.
A memory.
A promise not yet broken.
The media went wild.
Clips of the battle flooded online: Lisa and Kisuke emerging victorious against the level 3 monster — without the Devil boy´s help. Politicians jumped on the chaos like vultures.
"He's a threat for our existence. That boy doesn't belong in the Nightguard Corps," one senator barked on live TV.
Another nodded solemnly. "Tokyo burned when he fought for ´us´. These professionals fought clean. He's dangerous."
Social media exploded.#DemonBoy trended again.#LucienOut followed close behind.
Some voices defended him — calling the politicians cowards, hypocrites. But the tide of the battle online was shifting. Fast.
And in that sterile white cell, Lucien blinked slowly, still staring at the ceiling.
He heard nothing.
But he felt everything.
They feared him and his existence. Hated him. And they weren't entirely wrong.
He closed his eyes.
A whisper echoed from deep inside, darker than vengeance.
"When the time comes… burn it all to the ground."