Nero stood on the edge of the building, his towering figure looming over the scene below.
His silver hair seemed to glow under the moonlight. He wore a sleek black suit—a fitted jacket and perfectly tailored pants.
The night wind whipped at his black coat, the fabric's folds dancing playfully around him.
The streets below, once buzzing with life, were now a total mess. Humanoid monsters with twisted bodies and mangled limbs rampaged through every corner. In the distance, rising from towering buildings like ancient giants, colossal humanoid creatures lumbered forward. Their massive frames crushed everything in their path without mercy, turning defiant structures into rubble.
As Nero lingered on the ledge, watching the chaos unfold with razor-sharp focus, a woman's voice crackled through the earpiece tucked under his left ear.
["The big shots in this country have greenlit your intervention,"] she announced.
Nero was mildly surprised. He hadn't expected the authorities to jump on his offer so fast. Usually, the higher-ups were more cautious—downright paranoid—about dealing with outsiders.
"Really? That's shocking—they sorted it out quick," he said, his voice calm but laced with a hint of sarcasm.
The voice chuckled. ["Well, they're pretty desperate. Get this: they're even willing to double the payout I pitched, as long as you wear their gear before stepping in. They want to keep it hush-hush about who's bailing them out. Guess the authorities don't want anyone thinking they called in an underground guild."]
A sly grin crept across Nero's face. He figured they'd pull something like this—using his skills while keeping their squeaky-clean image intact. It was a political game he knew all too well.
["Tell me, why'd you want to jump into this mess?"]
Truth was, Nero had been the one to push the agency to pitch their services to this country's leaders.
He paused, mulling over his answer, then laid out his real motive: "I want to be a symbol of hope. I want people to see that even in the darkest times, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I want to be the hero who saves this world."
A dry laugh slipped through the earpiece. ["You? A symbol of hope? You used to be a criminal, darling. You've got zero cred."]
Nero nodded. "That's exactly why I *can* be a legit symbol. I've lived on both sides of the coin—I know how both worlds work, and I get where the real value lies."
The voice let out a tired sigh. ["Whatever. As long as you bring in cash for the guild, that's all I care about."]
"You're right," Nero said with a smirk, "and that's exactly why I signed up with you guys."
The voice gave a small, amused snort. ["Well, if you pull this off, I'll owe you a bottle of that whiskey you asked for way back when."]
A glint of mischief flashed in Nero's eyes as he shot back playfully, "Then you better start chilling it now."
Without another word, the voice cut off, ending the call.
Nero was alone again, the city's sounds crashing around him. A warm breeze tugged at his hair.
He scanned the scene, his gaze settling on the smoking wreckage and sprawling ruins stretching out endlessly. A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant screams of confused, terrified people.
A sigh slipped from his lips.
"Damn it, Corwin," he muttered to himself. "You went a little overboard."
Then he shook his head slowly, rethinking it.
An event this huge—an invasion of monsters this destructive—shouldn't have hit the five major nations this hard.
"It's not that Corwin overdid it; this country's just too weak."
In a move that felt almost rehearsed, he struck a dramatic pose, arms outstretched, surveying the horizon.
"Either way, where carnage and despair have run rampant, hope and renewal will overflow."
And without a second thought, he leapt off the edge in a smooth, graceful arc, defying gravity. His body plunged through the air, cutting through the debris and urban wreckage like a blazing meteor. The wind roared in his ears as he hurtled downward.
Nero couldn't help but grin. "Too cool!"
Free-falling from a skyscraper into a world in chaos. Every guy's fantasy.
---
At the city's entrance stood a massive operations base.
Law enforcement had rallied here, scrambling to hold off the looming invasion. Combat-ready cops manned their posts, braced for the enemy. Bright red ambulances buzzed around, rushing to aid the wounded, while the media elbowed through the crowd, hungry for every scrap of info to beam out live to the public.
The journalists were like bees swarming a hive in full swing. They clustered around the base, mics in hand, cameras poised to catch every gripping moment of the monster invasion. They were the pipeline for news.
Under the blinding glare of floodlights, reporters shouted questions, sometimes cutting off medics and cops trying to do their jobs in the madness.
One bold reporter, camera rolling and a predatory grin on his face, strode up to an exhausted medic who'd just loaded an injured person into an ambulance. "How many victims have you handled today? Ever seen carnage like this?"
The medic looked up, a mix of fatigue and resolve etched on his worn face. His voice came out rough: "Hundreds so far. This disaster's bigger than anything we've ever dealt with. But we're not giving up. We'll save every life we can."
The reporter nodded, soaking up every word with his camcorder. He swung his attention to a cop struggling to field the media's relentless barrage. Hustling over, he yelled above the noise, "What's the plan to beat these monsters? How do we survive this invasion?"
The officer, stone-faced despite the chaos, answered evenly, "We've thrown everything we've got at it. Coordinated strikes from across the city to wear them down and push them back. It's a brutal fight, but we're not losing."
Another gutsy journalist, mic in hand, approached a senior officer, her determined expression holding strong against the surrounding fear. "Any idea how many enemies we're up against?"
The officer took a deep breath before replying solemnly, "We're estimating around two thousand humanoid monsters. We've already cut their numbers by more than three-quarters. No clue where they came from yet."
Explosions echoed nearby as police sirens sliced through the air.
He went on: "We've managed to slow their advance thanks to warden teams, but it's a tough battle. We need every citizen's support—cooperation and vigilance."
The operations base was a whirlwind of action.
Soldiers darted around, each caught up in their own bubble of maps, plans, and gear. Screens flickered with surveillance feeds, showing streets swallowed by chaos and ruin.
Suddenly, the soldiers froze mid-task. One by one, they snapped to attention.
The Commander had arrived.
He strode in with confidence, his sharp eyes scanning the tired but resolute faces around him.
The operations chief hurried forward, saluting crisply. "Commander. The situation's more dire than ever."
The Commander nodded. "Colonel Johnston, I need a rundown on how operations are going."
Johnston winced slightly. Then he launched into a detailed breakdown—new findings on the creatures, the hardest-hit zones, and the field teams' efforts to shield civilians. When he finished, he fixed his gaze on the Commander.
"If I may, sir, what's the General Staff decided?"
The Commander met his eyes, his voice calm but firm. "Our mission's the same: evacuate the populace and secure the city's borders. As for the General Staff's response, it's already in motion."
Surprise flickered across Johnston's face. Before he could ask, the Commander nodded toward a figure approaching.
It was a man with silver hair, dressed in a flawless black suit.
Instinct kicked in, and the base's officers moved to block the stranger. But with a wave of his hand, the Commander stopped them cold, signaling to let him through. The man passed the line of officers, exchanged a respectful nod with the Commander, then turned to face Colonel Johnston and his team.
Confusion washed over their faces, eyes darting to the Commander.
"Meet our solution."