—
The sky above Tokyo split open like silk pulled taut and then torn.
A brilliant blue streak shot downward, crashing into the old broadcast tower with a controlled explosion of energy. When the light faded, Hoshiro stood amidst the rubble—unscathed, glowing with a new aura. It was calmer now, more stable, like the storm within had finally found direction.
Kazuki ran to him, out of breath. "Did you… just drop out of heaven?"
"Not heaven," Hoshiro said, adjusting his cracked mask. "Something much stranger."
Ayame appeared behind him. "You're different."
"I made a choice," he replied. "I keep my power. But now I answer to something bigger."
"Are we talking gods, or cosmic bureaucracy?" Kazuki joked.
Hoshiro cracked a rare smile. "Both."
—
In the shadows of a nearby alley, Tsukihana watched silently. Her eyes scanned the trio—not with hostility, but with curiosity.
"He chose the path of fire," she murmured to herself. "Let's see if he can walk it."
—
That night, as Tokyo began rebuilding once more, Hoshiro stood alone on the rooftop of his school. His blue aura flickered like a flame against the wind.
"I'm not done," he whispered. "The Syndicate may be gone. The gods may sleep. But the world still needs heroes."
Behind him, Ayame approached quietly. "You don't have to carry it alone."
He turned to face her, eyes soft beneath the mask. "Maybe… I don't want to."
She smiled, then leaned in, brushing her hand against his.
"Then don't."
—