The sky of Asterion City always looked brighter whenever heroes appeared on the megascreens. Holographic ads shimmered among the tall buildings, displaying perfect faces with confident smiles, bright-colored costumes, and the elemental logos that were their hallmark. Fire, Water, Wind, Lightning, Earth, Light—all neatly arranged in a narrative curated by the World Heroic Federation. They were called Humanity's Shield, symbols of hope and order.

  However, for Azure, that sky just looked fake.

  Azure stood at the overcrowded subway station, clutching a shabby bag that contained only a notebook, a change of clothes, and one water bottle—there wasn't even any food inside. His eyes looked up toward the megascreen broadcasting a live awards ceremony. Cheers echoed, not just from the audience on-site, but also from the city's loudspeakers.

  “Congratulations to Phoenix, the Eternal Flame, for his service in saving the Eastern District!” the host's voice boomed.

  Fire burned beautifully around Phoenix, forming dramatic wings. The camera captured his best angle. No smoke, no debris, no faces of those who had lost their homes.

  Azure clenched his fist.

  He remembered the Eastern District well.

  Not as a place that was saved, but as a place that was abandoned.

  Three years ago, when Azure was still seventeen, the city alarms had wailed in the middle of the night. A class B earth-element monster attack—according to the Federation—raged in the Eastern District. The ground split, buildings collapsed, and people ran in panic.

  Azure's father was a volunteer medic. He ran out of the house with a first-aid kit in hand, telling Azure to watch over his mother and younger sister.

  “The heroes will come,” his father said back then. “They always come.”

  Phoenix did come.

  Too late.

  By the time the fire burned the earth monster into a cracked black statue, half the district was already destroyed. Phoenix’s fire was too hot, too vast. It annihilated the threat, but it also annihilated whatever remained around it.

  The Federation called it unavoidable collateral damage.

  For Azure, it was called loss.

  His father never returned that night. His body was found the next day, buried under the rubble of an emergency clinic that had collapsed from Phoenix’s heat wave. There was no apology. No adequate compensation. Only an honor medal sent by mail, along with a standard letter bearing a digital signature.

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  “Thank you for his sacrifice for the world.”

  Azure tore that letter to shreds.

  Ever since then, the word hero felt like a mockery.

  The train arrived with a screech. Azure boarded with the crowd, standing squeezed between workers, students, and a few young recruits wearing Hero Academy jackets. Their jackets were clean, their faces full of zeal.

  “One day, I want to be like them,” a boy said to his friend, pointing at the screen still showing Phoenix.

  Azure turned his face away.

  He once had the same dream.

  In this world, elemental powers manifested randomly in humans at the age of sixteen. Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Lightning, Ice, Light, Shadow—even rare elements like Space and Time. That power was measured, classified, and if strong enough, its owner was recruited as an official hero.

  Azure got nothing.

  During the elemental awakening test, the measuring device only vibrated weakly. No light, no reaction. The officer wrote one word on his form: Null.

  Elementless.

  In a world that worshipped power, that was the same as being invisible.

  His mother tried to comfort him. “It's okay, Azure. You can still live a normal life.”

  A normal life meant odd jobs, moving from one job to another, always living in the shadow of heroes whose faces were plastered everywhere.

  The World Heroic Federation controlled everything. Media, narratives, even school curriculums. History was rewritten whenever necessary. Heroic mistakes were covered with pretty words. Civilian casualties were called statistics.

  Azure began to see a pattern.

  Every major monster attack was always followed by new advertising contracts. Every major destruction was always followed by reconstruction by companies affiliated with the Federation. Heroes weren't just protectors—they were brands.

  And brands are never wrong.

  The train stopped at Central Academy Station. Many passengers got off. Azure stayed inside until the next station, heading to the old warehouse where he worked as a night archivist.

  The warehouse stored old documents, from before the Federation unified the world under one banner. Archives rarely touched.

  That was where Azure found something.

  The night was quiet. The neon lights flickered. Azure was sorting through old files when a black folder fell from the top shelf. It had no Federation label. No official seal.

  Curiosity overcame caution.

  Inside were unsanitized field reports. Records of civilian casualties. Audio recordings. Even photos that never made the news.

  The name Phoenix appeared many times.

  Along with the names of other heroes.

  Azure read until morning, his chest feeling tight. What he suspected was even worse. Many monster attacks were deliberately allowed to escalate to justify heroic intervention. There were indications of elemental energy manipulation. Experiments.

  The world was not being saved.

  The world was being managed.

  As the sun rose, Azure closed the folder with trembling hands. In the warehouse mirror, he saw his own reflection—weak, elementless, insignificant.

  Or at least, that's what the world thought.

  As he stepped out of the warehouse, the city sirens wailed again. The megascreens lit up. A new attack.

  “Heroes are en route to the location!”

  Azure looked toward the sky once again filled with false light.

  For the first time, his anger turned into resolve.

  If the world wanted to believe the lies, then someone had to show the truth.

  And if the hero seen by the world was not the true hero…

  then Azure would become something else.

  Something the Federation could not control.

  Something that would force the world to open its eyes.

  In his chest, there was a strange sensation—like a faint vibration he had ignored all this time. Not fire. Not water. Not a known element.

  Yet for the first time in his life, Azure felt…

  that he wasn't entirely weak.

  (To be continued)