The storm was Kairon's element. Chaos swallowed Star City. He became a phantom—moving where no one else could, chakra channeling through his soles. He sprinted across floodwaters, each step sending ripples but never a splash, a silhouette beneath shattered neon.
A desperate mother and her child clung to a submerged car. Kairon dashed across the water, scooped the child up with one arm, and vaulted onto a vertical wall. Rain raced down the bricks; Kairon ran up them as if gravity were a suggestion. He set the child safely on a fire escape, nodded once to the stunned mother, and vanished before gratitude could form.
Gunfire crackled. Kairon vaulted from the rain-slick wall, landing soundlessly on a warehouse roof. Below, China White's henchmen herded terrified civilians like cattle, shouts lost in the storm.
He dropped into their midst—a phantom in the lightning. Blades flashed, steel singing through the rain. Lightning arced along the metal, each movement impossibly fast: one, two, three—every strike precise, merciless, silent. The henchmen collapsed before they could scream, weapons clattering to wet concrete.
China White spun, eyes wide, blade trembling. She met Kairon's gaze—and froze. His Sharingan spun, crimson tomoe swirling hypnotically. With a single glance, the world twisted around her.
The storm faded. Warehouse walls stretched into endless shadows. Chains of darkness coiled around her limbs, dragging her to her knees. She tried to scream, but her voice was swallowed by the void. Every failure, every betrayal, every drop of blood she'd spilled pressed down, suffocating.
Kairon's voice echoed everywhere and nowhere, cold and inescapable:
"You are nothing here."
The illusion shattered. China White crumpled, breathless, sweat and rain mingling on her skin. She looked up, trembling, and saw only Kairon's cold, unreadable mask. He turned away, dismissing her as beneath his notice. She remained on her knees, shaken to her core, as the storm raged and the phantom vanished into the night.
***
Midnight. Rain hammered Star City, neon bleeding across flooded streets. Under the skeletal remains of a collapsed arch, Cupid hummed a discordant tune, painting a grotesque heart in crimson spray paint on crumbling concrete. Her bow slung across her back, red hair plastered to her face. A terrified gang member hung pinned to a lamppost by a heart-tipped arrow. The note fluttered: For Green Arrow, with love.
Mia Dearden—Speedy—crept closer, heart pounding. Cupid was faster, stronger, unhinged. But I can't let anyone else get hurt. I won't freeze. Not again.
Mia (voice trembling, resolve hard): "Put the bow down, Cupid. This isn't love. This is madness."
Cupid spun, eyes wide, manic, delighted. Her voice was a sing-song whisper, slicing through the storm.
Cupid: "You wouldn't understand. Love is pain, and Star City is my valentine!"
Mia's hands shook, but she drew her bow, arrow nocked, tip glinting. I am Speedy. I am not afraid.
Cupid lunged—a blur of red and pink. Mia fired, but Cupid was already gone, dodging with impossible speed, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Cupid's fists were brutal, attacks wild yet deadly. Mia blocked, parried, rolled, mind cataloging every savage move, every fleeting opening. She's not just strong. She's a trained killer. Think, Mia. Use her momentum.
But Cupid's blows battered her defenses. Mia's arms ached, blood and rain mixing on her lips. She was on the ground, mud in her mouth, Cupid looming, arrow drawn, poised for the final, loving shot.
Is this it? Am I still just a victim? No. Not today.
A shadow dropped between them—silent, swift as thought. Kairon.
His movement was a single, perfect blur. Cupid collapsed, unconscious, before her mind registered she'd been struck.
Mia scrambled up, adrenaline and awe warring in her chest.
Mia: "Who are you? Why are you here?"
Kairon's eyes lingered, cold and unreadable as winter stars. For a moment, Mia felt him weighing her—ally, obstacle, or irrelevant? She caught a flicker—recognition, or disappointment? Then he vanished into the rain. Mia's fists clenched. He wasn't just cleaning up chaos. He was hunting. But for what? And why did he scare me more than Cupid ever could?
***
Assassin shadow ~
Star City was chaos incarnate. Sirens wailed a mournful dirge. Fires flickered like malevolent eyes in shattered windows. Civilians huddled in doorways, faces hollow with terror and fatigue. The city wasn't just unraveling; it was bleeding out.
Drakon moved through the storm like a phantom. At a barricade, he appeared behind a panicked official—a flash of silver, a gasp, and the man crumpled to the pavement. In a clinic, a medic collapsed, crimson spreading across her scrubs. On a rooftop, a councilman's last sight was the cold, empty precision in Drakon's eyes before darkness claimed him.
Panic. That's what he wants, Drakon thought, wiping his blade clean. No heroes. No hope. Just absolute fear.
He moved on, a shadow among shadows, every kill a calculated incision in the city's lifeblood.
***
Mia trailed Kairon through drowned halls of City Hall, nerves raw. She hugged the shadows, breath catching as Kairon and Drakon faced each other on the shattered rooftop.
Rain lashed down. Kairon stood with arrogant calm, twin Gale Serpent blades slung across his shoulders, crimson Sharingan eyes burning. Drakon crouched low, knife a gleaming extension of his will, every muscle tensed.
Kairon (teasing, almost bored): "Nice night for a dance. Let's see if you can keep up."
Drakon moved—a blur of aggression. His knife swept for Kairon's throat, a lethal arc. Kairon leaned back, a grin flashing, parrying with a casual flick.
Drakon pressed—elbows, knees, knife thrusts, each designed to kill. Kairon flowed around them, unpredictable, feet barely touching the rain-slick stone. The Gale Serpent blades whirled, not just blocking but redirecting, counterattacks forcing Drakon to retreat.
Kairon: "Not bad. But you're telegraphing. Try to surprise me."
Drakon feinted, swept for Kairon's legs. Kairon vaulted over Drakon's head in a gravity-defying flip, landing silently behind him. He tapped Drakon's shoulder with the flat of his blade.
Kairon (mocking): "Tag."
Drakon, enraged, struck—a brutal punch, a desperate knife slash. Kairon bled, a thin line of crimson on his cheek, but he laughed, eyes alight.
Kairon: "Now we're getting somewhere."
He blurred with a burst of Shunshin, reappearing atop a toppled pillar, faster than the eye could follow. His blade morphed into a whip of crackling wind, a tangible extension of the storm. Drakon ducked, closing with desperate speed. They clashed in a maelstrom of steel and spray, Drakon's honed speed and precision clashing against Kairon's fluid unpredictability.
Rain and sweat mingled as they traded blows, each a blur. Drakon's knife flickered like a viper's tongue, but Kairon's Sharingan tracked every movement, countering effortlessly, taunts constant.
Kairon: "You're fast, Drakon. But I'm the storm."
Drakon unleashed a desperate flurry, pushing Kairon back. Kairon redirected his momentum, catching Drakon off balance and sending him sprawling.
Kairon pressed, chaining taijutsu and kenjutsu into an unrelenting onslaught. Drakon blocked, parried, but the tide had turned. Kairon's genjutsu flickered—phantom chains, shadowy doubles, the world itself tilting around Drakon.
Mia watched, transfixed and terrified. She'd seen Drakon take down heroes before—her friends, even Dinah. But now, he was losing. Badly. And Kairon… Kairon was barely trying.
***
Rain pooled around their battered forms, reflecting distant fires. For the first time in years, Drakon was not the predator; he was at someone's mercy.
Kairon pressed cold steel to Drakon's throat, Sharingan pulsing.
Kairon (flat, final): "You're finished, Drakon. I want a name. Who sent you to Star City?"
Drakon spat blood, defiance blazing.
Drakon: "You think I'd betray my employer? You don't know me, ninja."
Kairon's eyes narrowed. The rain seemed to freeze as the Sharingan's genjutsu took hold. Chakra pulsed from Kairon's gaze into Drakon's mind.
Within the illusion, Drakon was bound in shadowy chains. A formless figure whispered orders, words reverberating into a tormenting roar. The cold touch of betrayal became icy tendrils, wrapping around his heart.
Kairon (everywhere and nowhere): "Tell me. Who is the mastermind?"
Drakon fought, will buckling. At last, his defenses broke. A masked figure emerged from the darkness, eyes gleaming with malice.
Drakon (strained, almost involuntary): "Prometheus… He's the one. He wants the city to burn."
The illusion snapped. Drakon collapsed, gasping for breath. Kairon smoothly sheathed his blade, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.
Kairon (softly): "Thank you."
For a heartbeat, Kairon's mask slipped. Was that regret—or calculation? Mia couldn't tell. Then it was gone, replaced by cold, unreadable calm.
***
Mia emerged, bow trembling, face pale with shock. She'd watched the duel in horrified silence. I'm not ready. Not for this. But I have to be. I have to get stronger.
Mia (shaken): "Prometheus…? Who is he? Why would anyone want to destroy the city like this?"
Kairon's gaze remained distant, unreadable. Mia felt frustration. Does he even see me? Or am I just another bystander?
A rhythmic electronic hum—Mr. Terrific entered, T-Spheres orbiting.
Mr. Terrific (to Mia, low): "That's the one. Roy described him—cloak, red eyes, not human. He took Roy down tonight. Left him alive, but… humiliated. No clue who he is."
He kept his distance, T-Spheres ready.
Mr. Terrific (to Kairon): "Who are you? Why are you here?"
Mia's frustration broke through.
Mia: "We need answers! This Prometheus—he's tearing everything apart. We can't fight what we don't understand."
Kairon's voice was flat, almost dismissive.
Kairon: "Prometheus is the only name you need to know. Find him before it's too late."
He turned, the rain swirling, and vanished into the storm—leaving only questions and a cold, gnawing dread.
Mia stared after him, hands trembling. He's not a hero. He's not a villain. He's something else. And I'm not sure which scares me more.
Mia (barely above a whisper): "Who is he? And how do we stop someone like that?"
Mr. Terrific knelt beside Drakon, scanning him with a T-Sphere.
Mr. Terrific: "We prepare. And we watch. Because whoever this Prometheus is, he's playing a game none of us fully understand yet."
The rain intensified, drumming on broken stone and battered heroes, as the city's new nightmare took shape in the dark.
***
The rooftop was a battlefield of broken glass and rain. Merlyn crouched at the edge, bow drawn, eyes scanning for prey—never noticing the storm coalescing behind him.
A flash—Kairon landed, swords in hand, lightning crackling along the blades. The air vibrated with tension.
Merlyn spun, loosing an arrow. Kairon's sword split it midair, sparks hissing.
Merlyn: "You're not part of this game," he spat.
Kairon's eyes narrowed, tomoe spinning. His voice was cold, anger simmering beneath the surface.
Kairon: "You never understood the rules. But I'm here to end your chaos."
Kairon slammed his palm to the rooftop.
Kairon: "Water Release: Hard Whirlpool Water Blade!"
Rain pooled, then exploded beneath Merlyn, launching him skyward. Kairon blurred after him, framed by lightning. Rain spiraled around his arm, forming a massive whirlpool.
Kairon: "You prey on the desperate. That ends now."
He slashed—
Kairon: "Water Release: Great Water Drill!"
The water became a spinning drill, smashing Merlyn back to the rooftop in a geyser of force. Stone shattered, water surged, Merlyn sprawled, bow trembling.
Kairon's anger sharpened.
Kairon: "Lightning Flash Sword!"
Lightning surged through his blade. He unleashed a flurry of blinding, electrified strikes—each blow faster, sharper, angrier. Kairon vaulted high, then came down with a final, devastating slash, lightning and water exploding together in a blinding flash. Merlyn collapsed, drenched and broken.
Kairon landed beside him, gaze icy and absolute. He pressed his hand to the rooftop, voice low—
Kairon: "You're finished. Let the storm devour you."
Kairon: "Water Release: Five Feeding Sharks."
Chakra surged into the water, birthing five ferocious sharks. They circled, jaws snapping, trapping Merlyn in a raging torrent. One after another, the sharks tore into him, regenerating from the rooftop flood, shredding his defenses and dragging him down. Merlyn's final scream was lost in the storm.
Kairon stood over the wreckage, lightning fading from his swords, water swirling at his feet. His anger ebbed, replaced by cold, unreadable calm—a storm that had passed, leaving only silence and fear.
He didn't look back. He didn't need to. The city would remember the storm—and the lesson it brought.
***
Aftermath and Confusion~
The rain softened, but the city's wounds gaped open.
Dinah Lance arrived first. She froze at the sight—Merlyn's bow abandoned in a pool of water, the rooftop slick with blood and scorched by lightning. What was left of Merlyn barely resembled a man. Dinah's breath caught. She looked away, jaw clenched, fighting the urge to retch.
Mia reached the scene moments later, boots splashing through puddles. She stared, wide-eyed, at the carnage—at the impossible footprints climbing the wall, at the civilians huddled in the alley below, whispering about the storm-walker who'd saved them and vanished.
Mia (whispering, trembling): "Who did this?"
Mr. Terrific's T-Spheres hovered, scanning the rooftop. He crouched beside the remains, face grim.
Mr. Terrific: "Not one of ours. And not one of theirs, either."
Below, a medic wrapped a blanket around a crying child, glancing nervously at the shadows.
Medic: "He just appeared. He walked on the water. I've never seen anything like it."
Oliver arrived, soaked and exhausted, eyes searching the darkness.
Oliver: "Did anyone see him?"
But the only answer was the rain and the distant wail of sirens.
For a moment, the heroes stood together in the storm, united by confusion and a deep, gnawing unease. They'd fought villains before—Merlyn, China White, even Drakon—but this was different. This was something new. Something that didn't fit into their world of heroes and villains.
***
The Calm and the Storm~
For a heartbeat, the city was silent—a fragile, breathless calm after the storm's rampage. Every wound and secret lay exposed beneath the rain's gentle hush. From shattered rooftops to flooded alleys, Star City seemed to hold its breath, suspended between devastation and whatever might come next.
High above, Kairon stood sentinel on the jagged edge of a ruined skyscraper, rain tracing crimson lines down his mask. He felt no triumph, no regret—only cold certainty. The game had changed. For a fleeting instant, he wondered if anyone below could ever understand the storm yet to come.
A soft chime echoed in his mind.
Sage : "Tactical review complete. Your actions have altered multiple variables. Prometheus is adapting. Caution is advised."
Kairon: "He's watching. Let him. I want him to see what's coming."
Sage: "Even the ocean is silent before the storm, Kairon. What follows will test every soul below."
Kairon's lips curled in a faint, knowing smile. "Then let them listen."
Far below, the heroes and survivors clustered in the rain, words failing them. The city, so recently a chaos of screams and violence, now stood hushed—sirens distant, even the storm's fury pausing as if the world itself was holding its breath.
***
In a shadowed lair, Prometheus paused the footage on Kairon's crimson blur, his eyes narrowing.
Prometheus: "Unpredictable. Not one of mine. Not one of theirs. A true variable."
His lips curled into a thin, calculating smile.
"The calm won't last. The game just changed."
***
For a moment, Star City was suspended—a city adrift, its wounds open, its fate uncertain. The hush was deep and unnatural, like the calm ocean before a hurricane's arrival, every soul sensing the storm that was still to come.
Then, chaos returned—sudden and merciless.
Sirens wailed anew, echoing off shattered buildings. Emergency lights flickered to life, painting the streets in frantic red and blue. Shouts erupted as first responders rushed into flooded alleys, hauling survivors from debris and broken glass. Somewhere, a gas main exploded, sending a fresh plume of fire into the night sky. Looters surged into abandoned stores, the desperate and the ruthless alike seizing their moment. The storm's fury redoubled, thunder cracking overhead as if to remind the city that peace was only an illusion.
On the rooftops, the heroes snapped back to motion, urgency burning away their confusion. Dinah barked orders, Oliver sprinted toward a collapsing bridge, and Mia steadied her bow, jaw set with new resolve. Amid the chaos, Kairon vanished into the shadows, Sage's voice a steady pulse in his mind.
Sage : "The calm has passed. Star City is in motion once more. Your choices will shape what rises from this storm."
And so, the silence was shattered—replaced by the relentless, living chaos of a city fighting to survive, and the storm that refused to let it rest.
End of Chapter