Seven days after Ygros disappeared, the world was still arguing over whether humanity had won.
I was more concerned with getting a spoon to my mouth.
My left hand shook halfway there.
I stopped.
The spoon trembled between my fingers, carrying a disappointingly small amount of cereal that was now in serious danger of returning to the bowl.
"Come on."
My index finger twitched.
The spoon tilted.
"No."
Milk spilled onto the table.
I stared at it.
The spoon fell from my hand.
For several seconds, I didn't move.
Then I leaned back in my chair and looked toward the ceiling.
"Excellent."
My apartment was quiet.
That was one of the reasons I'd insisted on returning here.
The government had wanted to keep me in medical observation for another week. The doctors had wanted two. President Cross had apparently wanted me somewhere secure until the international attention surrounding Kai Skyline calmed down.
I wanted my own bed.
I won.
Mostly because I'd threatened to leave anyway.
My right shoulder was functional again, although raising it above my head still hurt. My ribs had entered the wonderful stage of recovery where breathing no longer felt like death, but sneezing still did. The cuts were healing.
My left arm was the problem.
I could move it.
Technically.
My elbow worked. My wrist worked when it felt like cooperating. Three fingers had regained most of their movement.
The other two apparently had unionized.
I looked at my hand.
"You're embarrassing me."
My hand did not respond.
Understandable.
The television across the room did.
"…representatives from thirty-eight national hero organizations arrived in Geneva this morning for what officials are calling the largest emergency hero summit since the International Ability Accords…"
I reached for the remote with my right hand.
The screen showed a huge complex surrounded by security vehicles, reporters and enough cameras to make me uncomfortable from another continent.
The headline underneath read:
GLOBAL HERO SUMMIT BEGINS
I turned the volume up.
A reporter stood behind a barricade as black vehicles moved toward the conference center.
"Although officials have refused to release the complete agenda, sources indicate the summit will address major concerns raised by the Ygros incident, including international response times, hero deployment limitations and growing criticism of the current hero ranking system."
I paused.
Ranking system?
The broadcast switched to footage I'd seen far too many times already.
Ygros.
Then me.
Ice spreading across its arm.
I immediately changed the channel.
Another station.
Same footage.
Changed again.
Me getting punched through a mountain.
"Why would they use that clip?"
Changed again.
Ygros.
Changed.
My face.
Changed.
A panel of five people arguing about whether I should be S-rank.
"Nope."
I turned the television off.
Silence returned.
Better.
A soft vibration came from the counter.
My phone.
I looked at it.
Then ignored it.
It vibrated again.
And again.
I finally got up.
My body complained, but considerably less than it would've a few days earlier. I walked over and checked the screen.
BENNY
I stared.
Three unread messages.
Benny: You alive?
Five minutes later:
Benny: That sounded threatening
Then:
Benny: I mean medically
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, I locked the phone.
Avoid.
That was the plan.
The hospital visit had been too close.
Not because any of them had recognized me.
They hadn't.
That was exactly the problem.
For twenty minutes, I'd forgotten to be careful.
Benny had made me laugh.
Paul had annoyed me.
Emi had interrogated me about swordsmanship.
Threya had…
I stopped.
No.
That was precisely why I needed distance.
Kai Skyline could occasionally know the Flag-Bearers.
Kai Skyline could even work with them.
But Kai Skyline could not become part of their lives.
Not again.
My phone vibrated.
Benny: I know you're reading these
I frowned.
How?
Another message.
Benny: because you always ignore the first three
I stared at the screen.
Then slowly placed the phone facedown.
"That's disturbing."
A knock came from the door.
I froze.
Another knock.
I looked toward the phone.
No.
Absolutely not.
I moved quietly toward the door and checked the security display.
Not Benny.
I relaxed.
Then immediately became annoyed for a completely different reason.
President Evelyn Cross stood outside.
Two security officers waited behind her.
I opened the door.
"Do presidents normally make house calls?"
"No."
"Should I feel special?"
"No."
She walked past me.
"Come in, I guess."
"I already did."
"I noticed."
The security officers remained outside as Evelyn entered the living room. She glanced around once before noticing the abandoned bowl of cereal.
"Breakfast?"
"Battle."
She looked at the spoon on the table.
"Did you win?"
"Decisively."
She looked at my left hand.
The joke disappeared.
"How is it?"
"Getting better."
"Doctors agree?"
"They use longer words."
"Kai."
"Three fingers are mostly normal. Wrist strength is coming back. Two fingers still have reduced sensation."
Evelyn nodded.
"And the sword?"
My eyes moved toward the black case sitting against the wall.
"Behaving."
That wasn't entirely true.
The black mark remained.
I'd touched it twice since the hospital.
Both times I'd felt something strange.
Not memories.
Not exactly.
Patterns.
Fragments of movement.
Pressure.
The sensation of Ygros's attacks without Ygros actually being there.
I hadn't told Evelyn.
I wasn't planning to.
She followed my eyes toward the case.
"You haven't used it?"
"Doctors said not to."
"And?"
"And I'm occasionally capable of listening."
She gave me a look.
"That wasn't convincing."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
Evelyn reached into her jacket and placed a thin tablet on the table.
"Get dressed."
"No."
"You don't know where we're going."
"Exactly."
"The summit."
I looked at her.
"No."
"Kai."
"Still no."
"Your battle is one of the primary reasons it's happening."
"That sounds like your problem."
"You're a registered combatant employed under federal emergency authority."
"Temporary authority."
"Which hasn't expired."
I stared.
She stared back.
I hated that she was better at this.
"Do I have to speak?"
"No."
"Take pictures?"
"Probably."
"No."
"Then wear a mask."
I paused.
She smiled slightly.
"Thought so."
"You're manipulative."
"I'm the president."
"Same thing."
"Get dressed."
The summit wasn't actually being held in Geneva.
That was for the cameras.
The public conference was in Geneva.
The real meeting was beneath it.
Apparently the world's most powerful heroes, military officials and ability researchers didn't enjoy discussing humanity's weaknesses while reporters listened through walls.
Reasonable.
The elevator descended far enough that my ears popped.
Evelyn stood beside me.
Four security officers stood behind us.
I wore black.
Nothing dramatic.
Jacket.
Gloves.
Mask.
The mask covered the lower half of my face and had already improved my mood considerably.
"You look like you're about to rob someone," Evelyn said.
"I might."
"Please don't."
The elevator continued downward.
"How many countries?"
"Fifty-two represented in the closed session."
"Heroes?"
"Some."
"How many?"
"Enough."
I looked at her.
"Helpful."
The elevator slowed.
Evelyn's expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
President now.
"We're entering a different world down here, Kai."
"Underground diplomacy?"
"The people you're about to meet rarely gather in one place."
"Because they're important?"
"Because some countries consider deploying them equivalent to deploying strategic weapons."
That got my attention.
The doors opened.
The hallway beyond was enormous.
White stone.
Black metal.
No windows.
Security checkpoints stretched ahead, but the people standing around them weren't ordinary guards.
I could feel that immediately.
A woman leaned against one wall with silver tattoos running from her neck down both arms. Every few seconds, the lights above her flickered.
A massive man stood near another entrance wearing no visible armor. He had to be close to seven feet tall, but his size wasn't what bothered me.
The floor beneath his boots was cracked.
He wasn't doing anything.
Just standing.
Further ahead, a young-looking man in a white coat argued with three officials while several glass spheres floated around him without support.
I slowed.
Evelyn noticed.
"Something wrong?"
"No."
For the first time since Ygros, something inside me woke up.
Curiosity.
"Who are these people?"
"Some are heroes. Some are researchers. Some are national representatives."
I looked at the giant.
"He's a researcher?"
"No."
"Shame."
We continued.
Then I felt something.
Different from the others.
Sharp.
I stopped.
Across the hall, an older man stood alone.
Gray hair.
Simple dark clothing.
A sword at his waist.
Nothing about him looked extraordinary.
Until he looked at me.
My entire body understood before my mind did.
Swordsman.
The man's eyes dropped toward my left hand.
Then toward the black case carried by the security officer behind me.
He smiled.
Bladeon.
I'd seen him before, obviously.
Everyone had.
S-rank.
Master swordsman.
One of the most famous weapon users alive.
But television hadn't captured this.
The way he stood.
Balanced without appearing balanced.
His right hand rested nowhere near the sword, yet I knew exactly how quickly he could reach it.
I also knew something else.
If he drew…
I wanted to see it.
Bladeon walked toward us.
"President Cross."
"Bladeon."
His attention shifted to me.
"Kai Skyline."
"Apparently."
His smile grew.
"Your shoulder?"
"Healing."
"Hand?"
"Also healing."
"Good."
He stepped closer.
His eyes moved over my stance.
Not rudely.
Clinically.
"You favor your right leg when standing."
I looked down.
I was.
"Ribs."
"I assumed."
"You always inspect people like this?"
"Only swordsmen."
I glanced toward the weapon at his waist.
"Can I see it?"
Evelyn looked at me.
Bladeon laughed.
Not politely.
Actually laughed.
"I wondered how long that would take."
"What?"
"Most young heroes ask about Ygros."
I looked at his sword again.
"I already met Ygros."
That made him pause.
Then he nodded.
"Fair."
His hand rested lightly on the hilt.
Something inside me sharpened.
Every instinct focused on that hand.
Bladeon noticed.
His expression changed.
Interesting.
"Later," he said.
I frowned.
"That's cruel."
"You'll survive."
"Recent evidence suggests that's debatable."
Bladeon smiled and walked past us.
I watched him leave.
Evelyn continued forward.
"You made an impression."
"He has a nice sword."
"You are incredibly strange."
"I've been told."
We entered the chamber.
My humor disappeared.
Hundreds of seats descended toward a central circular floor.
Screens covered the walls, displaying maps, statistics and names from around the world. Translation systems ran beneath each section.
Heroes sat beside military commanders.
Scientists beside politicians.
Agency directors beside people I didn't recognize.
Some faces I knew.
Maximus.
A-rank.
Gravity control.
René Leclerc from France sat several rows down beside Lucie Marceau.
I recognized others from broadcasts, rankings and old hero documentaries.
People I'd grown up hearing about.
The pillars holding up the modern hero world.
And suddenly I understood something embarrassing.
I didn't know this world nearly as well as I thought.
Evelyn pointed toward a seat.
"Sit."
"I know how chairs work."
"Your cereal says otherwise."
I sat.
She continued toward the national delegation section.
The lights dimmed.
A man stepped onto the central floor.
Behind him appeared a single image.
Ygros.
No dramatic music.
No introduction.
Just the monster standing in the snow.
The chamber became silent.
The man spoke.
"Seven days ago, humanity discovered that its understanding of power was obsolete."
Nobody moved.
"The being designated Ygros crossed multiple national boundaries without authorization, survived conventional military engagement, resisted known suppression methods, demonstrated unknown biological and anomalous capabilities, and engaged a registered human combatant."
My picture appeared beside Ygros.
I sank slightly lower in my chair.
The speaker continued.
"The public has described the incident as a victory."
Several people looked toward me.
I resisted the urge to disappear.
"The International Hero Council does not."
Interesting.
A new image appeared.
My sword frozen against Ygros's arm.
"Combatant Kai Skyline demonstrated extraordinary adaptability and successfully inflicted temporary restraint upon the entity."
Temporary restraint.
Much better wording.
"However, analysis confirms that Ygros remained combat-capable at the conclusion of the engagement. Its withdrawal was voluntary."
The chamber stirred.
Quiet conversation.
I stared at the screen.
There it was.
Not publicly.
But here.
The truth.
Maybe not all of it.
Enough.
The speaker changed slides.
A graph appeared.
D.
C.
B.
A.
S.
"The current International Hero Classification System was created to standardize deployment."
Another image.
Monster destruction levels.
Rescue capabilities.
Hero response zones.
"It was not created to describe the upper boundaries of human capability."
That caught my attention.
"S-rank has historically represented individuals capable of responding to national-level emergencies, catastrophic monster events and extraordinary ability users. However, S-rank currently contains heroes whose measurable combat capacities differ by factors too large to justify identical classification."
A murmur moved through the chamber.
Bladeon sat across the room.
Completely relaxed.
The speaker continued.
"The problem existed before Ygros."
The S on the screen expanded.
"Ygros merely made ignoring it impossible."
Three letters appeared above S.
SS
SSS
Then:
X
The chamber changed.
Even experienced heroes leaned forward.
"The Council proposes an expanded classification framework."
The full scale appeared.
D — C — B — A — S — SS — SSS — X
My eyes stayed on the final letter.
X.
The speaker anticipated the question.
"X-classification will not represent a conventional progression beyond SSS. It is a provisional designation reserved for individuals or phenomena whose measurable capabilities exceed reliable standardized assessment."
Someone raised a hand.
"Ygros?"
The speaker looked toward him.
"No."
That surprised several people.
"Ygros remains classified as Apocalypse."
Another representative spoke.
"If X represents power beyond standardized assessment, why isn't an Apocalypse X?"
"Because Apocalypse is not a power rank."
Good.
"The term describes a threat category exhibiting characteristics that invalidate conventional hero-response assumptions. We do not currently possess enough information to place Ygros anywhere on a human-derived numerical or alphabetical scale."
I leaned back.
Exactly.
Someone else asked:
"Then what is the purpose of X?"
The speaker paused.
"Preparation."
That quieted the room.
Behind him, the image changed.
A blank silhouette.
X
Nobody beneath it.
No name.
No photograph.
Nothing.
"For the moment, the designation remains vacant."
For some reason, the empty space bothered me more than if someone had occupied it.
The speaker continued.
"Beginning next month, all registered heroes will undergo mandatory recalibration. Internationally recognized hero academies will adopt the same updated evaluation standards."
Another slide.
Students.
Training centers.
Monster casualty statistics.
"The Ygros incident also exposed a second problem."
Numbers appeared.
Projected monster growth.
Hero retirement rates.
Casualties.
Response shortages.
"We do not have enough heroes."
That statement felt strange in a room filled with them.
"We particularly lack sufficient numbers of heroes capable of developing beyond B-class response levels. Existing educational infrastructure prioritizes ability development without adequately separating students by projected combat role, growth requirements or threat specialization."
A map appeared.
Hundreds of locations lit up.
"That changes now."
I sat forward.
"Beginning this academic year, participating nations will restructure hero education around calibrated development programs. Existing institutions will be expanded. New academies will be constructed. International exchange programs will increase. High-potential students will be redirected toward facilities capable of supporting their projected development."
The map zoomed toward North America.
New schools.
Existing schools changing classification.
Training centers.
Something uncomfortable formed in my stomach.
I already knew where this was going.
Then a list appeared.
PRIORITY RECALIBRATION GROUPS
Active S-Class Heroes.
National Response Teams.
Specialized Ability Units.
High-Risk Licensed Heroes.
Flag-Bearers.
And finally:
Kai Skyline.
I stared.
"You've got to be kidding me."
The person beside me glanced over.
I pretended I hadn't spoken.
The speaker continued.
"Initial priority evaluations begin in seventy-two hours."
Seventy-two.
Great.
Three days until hundreds of people measured exactly how unimpressive I was without a sword in my hand.
I looked across the chamber.
Bladeon was already watching me.
He smiled.
I didn't like that.
The summit lasted another four hours.
I understood approximately three of them.
Most discussions involved deployment law, funding, international jurisdiction and arguments between countries that apparently hated each other until a monster crossed the border.
Then the heroes started arguing.
That was more entertaining.
An American agency director insisted recalibration couldn't rely too heavily on destructive output.
A German hero argued that rescue capacity should be weighted separately from combat ranking.
A Japanese representative wanted weapon mastery formally added as an evaluation category.
Bladeon supported that one.
Naturally.
Mental abilities caused another argument entirely.
Someone pointed out that a telepath capable of disabling fifty people without destroying a building might score lower than someone who could level a city block.
That discussion lasted forty minutes.
I actually paid attention.
The ranking system wasn't as simple as I'd assumed.
Strength mattered.
But so did control.
Endurance.
Range.
Adaptability.
Rescue capability.
Combat intelligence.
Ability compatibility.
Teamwork.
Threat resistance.
A hero who could destroy a mountain but couldn't fight inside a city without killing everyone wasn't automatically better than someone with less destructive output.
Good.
At least humanity wasn't completely stupid.
Eventually the meeting adjourned.
I stood slowly.
My ribs were furious.
Evelyn approached.
"Thoughts?"
"Your meetings are too long."
"About the system."
"Oh."
I looked toward the giant screen displaying the new ranks.
D.
C.
B.
A.
S.
SS.
SSS.
X.
"I like it."
She raised an eyebrow.
"That's surprisingly uncomplicated."
"Give me time."
We started toward the exit.
People around us were still talking.
Heroes.
Real ones.
People with decades of experience.
I noticed the seven-foot man from earlier speaking with Maximus.
The silver-tattooed woman walked past us.
The lights flickered again.
I watched her.
"What's her rank?"
"Currently S."
"Currently?"
"Everyone gets recalibrated."
I looked around.
"How many S-ranks are actually stronger than S?"
"That's what we're about to learn."
Something about that excited me.
Then Evelyn ruined it.
"You're being tested Thursday."
"I know."
"Publicly."
I stopped.
"What?"
"Parts of the recalibration will be broadcast."
"No."
"Kai."
"No."
"You're the most requested evaluation."
"That's their problem."
"The world watched you fight Ygros."
"The world needs hobbies."
"They want to know where you rank."
I looked toward the screen again.
S.
SS.
SSS.
People probably expected something ridiculous.
The mysterious teenager who supposedly drove away an Apocalypse.
Maybe they expected S.
Maybe SS.
I knew better.
I remembered Ygros's claw stopping inches from my face.
The attacks it hadn't finished.
The opportunities it hadn't taken.
I remembered lying in the snow while it decided whether I was still interesting.
"I didn't beat him."
Evelyn became quiet.
I hadn't told her everything.
I still wasn't going to.
But I didn't need to.
"No," she said.
We continued walking.
"People are going to find that out."
"Maybe that's good."
I glanced at her.
She looked ahead.
"Kai Skyline is becoming something dangerous."
"Handsome?"
"A symbol."
"Worse."
"Much worse."
We reached the elevator.
The doors opened.
Before entering, I looked back at the chamber.
Bladeon stood on the other side of the room.
He had finally drawn his sword.
Only a few inches.
Someone beside him was examining the blade.
Even from this distance, I saw enough.
The shape.
Weight distribution.
Curvature.
Possible draw angles.
My mind immediately began constructing movements.
One.
Five.
Twenty.
Hundreds.
Then Bladeon looked directly at me.
His smile vanished.
He knew.
Somehow, from across the room, he'd seen the way I looked at the sword.
He slid it back into its sheath.
The elevator doors closed.
For the entire ride upward, I thought about that weapon.
Not Ygros.
Not X-rank.
Not the cameras waiting above.
The sword.
I understood what Bladeon could do with it.
Or at least, I thought I did.
But understanding wasn't enough.
My injured hand reminded me of that.
The sword could teach me a perfect technique.
My mind could understand every movement.
And my body could still break trying to perform it.
For the first time since waking from the ice, that thought didn't frustrate me.
It excited me.
Because somewhere above S-rank were SS and SSS.
Beyond them was an empty classification nobody had filled.
And somewhere completely outside that system were things like Ygros.
I'd spent the last week being called humanity's newest great hero.
People thought I'd reached the top.
Standing in that underground chamber had shown me the truth.
I hadn't reached anything.
I was at the bottom of a mountain so tall I couldn't see the peak.
My phone vibrated.
I checked it.
Benny: You ignored me
Another message appeared.
Benny: rude
Then:
Benny: btw theyre recalibrating us too
I stared at the screen.
Of course they were.
Benny: wanna bet who ranks higher?
I smiled.
Then remembered the plan.
Avoid.
I locked the phone without answering.
Three seconds later:
Benny: coward
I stared at it.
Evelyn glanced over.
"Problem?"
"No."
I put the phone away.
"Persistent idiot."
The elevator continued upward.
Three days.
Then the world would find out how strong Kai Skyline actually was.
For once, I was curious too.