The hallway outside Richard Thornfield's office felt colder than the rest of the tower.
Black Mentis moved through it at a measured pace while the sound of his boots carried across the polished marble floor in steady, controlled impacts. Long rows of white lights stretched overhead, reflecting across the silver accents lining his armor. The corridor was nearly empty aside from the low hum of the ventilation system running through the walls.
A cleaning drone rounded the corner ahead of him with sanitation equipment hanging beneath its frame. The machine froze the instant its sensors locked onto him. Its lens flickered once before it quietly shifted itself against the wall to clear the path.
Mentis walked past without looking at it.
Richard's words kept replaying in his mind.
A Mars mission involving every S-Rank hero. Promotion evaluations. Oversight teams. Temporary reassignment schedules.
None of it fit. None of it made any sense.
His hand rose toward the lower edge of his mask, fingers brushing slowly against the rough edge of his beard while he walked. His breathing remained controlled, but the pauses between each breath had grown heavier.
"Sending every S-Ranker off-world at the same time makes no sense," he thought.
He turned another corner and slowed near a massive reinforced glass wall overlooking the lower training sectors.
Far below, squads of heroes moved through formation drills under instructor supervision. Bright bursts of energy flashed across reinforced arenas while trainees sprinted between barriers and obstacle structures. Orders echoed faintly upward from the fields below. Everything looked organized down to the smallest movement.
Mentis stood there watching for several seconds.
One trainee stumbled after taking a direct blast to the chest during a sparring exercise. Three medics reached him almost immediately. Instructors continued shouting commands without interruption. The formation closed the gap before the fallen trainee had even been lifted off the ground.
Too smooth.
His fingers twitched once at his side before curling into a loose fist.
"Richard never moves pieces without preparing multiple outcomes first."
The reflection staring back at him through the reinforced glass remained unreadable beneath the black helmet and silver lines crossing the armor.
"Sending his strongest cards away together is not logistics."
He resumed walking.
"It is clearance."
The platform beneath his boots vibrated faintly as transport rails moved through the lower sectors underneath the corridor. Mentis rested one hand against the railing while looking down across the island below.
Training arenas. Residential sectors. Research facilities. Security towers. Cargo lanes. Patrol routes.
Everything was positioned exactly where it needed to be. Everything was monitored.
HeroCorp presented itself as humanity's shield, but Mentis knew how much blood sat underneath the polished surface. Staying close to them had never been loyalty. It had always been survival.
The media loved presenting him as one of HeroCorp's greatest allies. People felt safer believing the strongest hero alive stood beside the organization willingly. HeroCorp never corrected the story. Neither did he.
The truth remained buried underneath years of carefully maintained distance.
He had kept the existence of his wife and children far away from HeroCorp's official systems. They had no records, no photographs, and no connections leading back to him. The organization did not even know they existed. He had spent years cutting every possible link himself.
The less HeroCorp knew about his family, the longer they stayed alive.
Black Mentis reached the overlook balcony near the edge of the sector and finally stopped moving. Cold ocean air pushed through the ventilation channels surrounding the platform, rolling against the surface of his armor. Below him, the island stretched across the ocean in layers of steel, glass, and artificial light while transport aircraft crossed overhead toward distant docking sectors.
From a distance, the place almost looked peaceful.
He stepped closer to the railing and planted both hands against the metal. His shoulders lowered while his eyes swept slowly across the island beneath him.
His grip tightened little by little without him noticing.
A sharp crack spread beneath one of his palms. Thin fractures crawled through the railing before several small metal fragments snapped loose and disappeared into the waves below.
Mentis remained still.
"This feeling again…"
His jaw shifted once beneath the mask.
"It has been years since my instincts reacted this strongly."
Five years ago, he ignored that feeling once before.
People died because he arrived too late.
His chest expanded slowly before another controlled breath left him through his nose. One of his hands loosened from the damaged railing while the other remained planted firmly against it.
"I am not repeating that mistake again."
He straightened up and rolled one shoulder back, forcing tension out of his posture. The damaged section of railing creaked softly as he stepped away from it.
One thought settled firmly in his mind now.
"The statue."
His eyes lifted toward the far edge of the island where the massive monument overlooked the cliffs above the ocean. He stared at it in silence for another moment while transport lights moved across the night sky behind it.
"I need to check it myself."
The reflective glass surrounding the overlook caught part of his image as he turned away from the balcony. Dark armor. Silver lining. Broad shoulders moving through the sterile white corridor while the rest of the island continued operating around him.
This time his pace was faster.
Whatever Richard Thornfield was planning, Mentis refused to be caught unprepared again.
Meanwhile, inside the office, Richard Thornfield stood alone.
The assistant had barely finished collecting the last stack of documents before the door sealed shut behind her. The quiet click echoed through the room for less than a second.
Richard's expression collapsed immediately afterward.
The whisky glass in his hand trembled once before he hurled it across the office with sudden force.
It exploded against the far wall. Amber liquid splashed across the dark glass panels while fragments scattered over the marble floor, some pieces sliding underneath the edge of the desk.
Richard's chest rose sharply. One of the veins along his neck pulsed as he stared at the shattered remains without moving. His fingers slowly opened and closed afterward like he was forcing control back into his hand.
"Just you wait," he muttered under his breath.
His voice came out low and rough.
"Everything comes with time, old friend."
He stepped toward the massive window overlooking the lower sectors of the island. The heel of his shoe crushed a shard of glass beneath it with a dry crack.
Far below, Black Mentis crossed the training grounds at a calm, steady pace while instructors barked commands across the arenas. Even from this distance, Richard could feel it.
The control he once had over him was slipping.
"And yours," Richard said quietly while staring down at the armored figure below, "is getting very short."
One of his hands folded behind his back while the other adjusted the cuff of his sleeve with slow, deliberate movements. His posture looked calm again, but tension still lingered in the stiffness of his shoulders.
"He knows too much now," he murmured.
His eyes tracked Mentis moving across the lower platform sectors.
"And he's starting to think for himself again."
Richard turned away from the window and walked back toward his desk. His pace remained controlled this time, though the muscles in his face still looked tight underneath the office lighting.
He slammed his palm against a concealed panel beside the desk.
A soft mechanical click answered him before a hidden screen illuminated across the surface.
"Prepare a meeting with the other HeroCorp executives," Richard said sharply. "Immediately."
Static crackled briefly from the desk speaker.
"Yes, sir."
The transmission ended. The screen dimmed seconds later.
Richard remained standing behind the desk with both hands folded behind his back again. His gaze drifted toward the city beyond the glass walls while thousands of lights flickered across the island below. Cargo transports moved between sectors. Patrol drones crossed overhead in organized routes. Training alarms echoed faintly from distant arenas.
Everything continued operating exactly as it should.
Then Black Mentis stopped below.
Richard's eyes narrowed slightly as the hero lowered his stance for a brief second.
The air around Mentis distorted.
A violent burst of pressure exploded across the training grounds the instant he launched into the sky. The concrete beneath his feet cracked outward in a circular pattern while a heavy shockwave tore across the nearby platforms. Several trainees staggered sideways. One instructor lost his footing completely and slammed into a railing while loose papers and equipment containers scattered across the sector.
A split second later, Mentis was already gone.
Only a fading streak remained high above the clouds.
Silence settled inside the office again.
Richard stared at the empty stretch of sky for several long seconds before slowly exhaling through his nose. One finger tapped once against the back of his hand behind him.
Inside the tower, plans were already changing.