The air was heavy with residual energy, charged and unstable from the titanic clash that had shaken the stadium moments before. Dust and debris hovered in the eerie glow of violet light radiating from Amaterasu, her once-controlled aura now an inferno of rage and power. The evil figure floated above the fractured battlefield, her piercing gaze locked onto Yüsēi, whose thin frame swayed but remained steadfast against the odds.

Kouta, barely conscious, lay crumpled among the rubble, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. It was all unraveling before him like a chaotic tapestry. His body refused to move, paralyzed by both fear and the oppressive energy crushing the air around him. Saori, her face pale, couldn’t get her eyes away from him, her voice drowned by the distant roar of power.

“You cannot hope to win,” the villainess sneered, descending slowly to the ground. Her crimson energy crackled like an untamed beast. “I am General Amaterasu, charged with finding and reclaiming the heir to the Demon Empire. I will not leave this insignificant speck of a planet without him.”

Yüsēi’s weathered face hardened. His once-affable demeanor now bore the scars of battle and unspoken regrets. “So you’re the one they sent. Took you long enough,” he muttered, brushing dust off his sleeve.

Amaterasu’s eyes narrowed. “And you… you’re no ordinary human. Who are you?”

For a moment, silence reigned. Then Yüsēi spoke, his voice low but steady. “I’m the one who stopped the Demon Emperor all those years ago. The so-called ‘legendary hero.’”

Gasps rippled through the air. Even the floating bodies, suspended helplessly in Amaterasu’s energy field, seemed to shudder at the revelation.

Kouta’s heart skipped a beat. “No… no, that can’t be true,” he whispered, trembling. The bedtime stories his grandfather had told him—the heroic adventures, the battles against insurmountable evil—had always been true.

But Yüsēi wasn’t finished. “When I defeated the Demon Emperor, I found his heir. A child, innocent and untouched by his father’s tyranny. I couldn’t bring myself to kill him. So I made a choice. I took him far from the chaos, to a quiet world where he could live as any normal boy would.” His gaze shifted briefly to Kouta, heavy with unspoken sorrow.

Amaterasu’s laughter cut through the air like a blade. “How noble. And how foolish. That child was the key to stabilizing the Empire. Without him, chaos has consumed the galaxy. You, ‘hero,’ are as much to blame for this as the Emperor himself.”

The general raised a hand, her energy flaring wildly. The floating bodies of the bystanders began to orbit her, like planets caught in a cruel gravitational pull. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled one towards Yüsēi.

Yüsēi sprang into action, his body moving with a grace that belied his age. He caught the first body mid-air, spinning to shield them from an incoming blast. Amaterasu’s attacks came in relentless waves, forcing Yüsēi to dart across the battlefield, shielding one person after another.

Yüsēi didn’t hesitate. He sprinted toward the first floating body, a young man whose face was frozen in an expression of terror even in unconsciousness. Catching him mid-air, Yüsēi spun to shield him from an explosion that detonated just a few feet away. Landing hard, he shook off the impact and gently set the young man down.

The boy’s eyes fluttered open, wide with confusion. “What… what’s happening?” he stammered.

“No time to explain!” Yüsēi barked, pushing him toward a crumbled section of the stadium that offered some cover. “Run! Get out of here and don’t look back!”

There was no time to see if the boy followed his orders. Another body was drifting dangerously close to an incoming blast, and Yüsēi was already moving. Amaterasu’s relentless attacks tore through the battlefield, leaving craters in their wake. A searing beam of energy shot toward him, forcing him to dive out of the way before leaping back into action.

In the chaos, Yüsēi spotted Saori among the floating figures. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes met his, a mix of desperation and defiance. She struggled against the invisible force holding her in the air, shouting, “Grandpa! You can’t do this alone!”

Ignoring her plea, Yüsēi launched himself upward with a burst of speed, narrowly avoiding another deadly strike. “Please, get out of here!” he roared, grabbing her and pulling her close. He spun mid-air, his body acting as a shield against a wave of energy that scorched the ground below them.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Landing hard, he set her down behind a slab of debris, his voice firm. “Saori, go now! Get everyone to safety!”

Tears welled in her eyes as she hesitated, but the fury in Yüsēi’s gaze left no room for argument. She nodded reluctantly and turned to run, calling out to the others who were beginning to regain their senses. “Move! Everyone, we need to get out of here!”

Yüsēi’s focus shifted back to the battlefield as Amaterasu’s mocking laughter echoed. His body ached, his energy waning, but he refused to stop. Each person saved was worth every ounce of pain. “If you think I’ll let you harm them, you’re even more deluded than I thought,” he growled, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Meanwhile, Yumi-Chan crouched behind a toppled section of the stadium, her iconic oversized ribbon askew. “This is bad. This is REALLY bad,” she muttered, her usual bubbly demeanor replaced by panic.

“We can’t just sit here! That kid—he’s the reason this whole mess started, right? We’ve gotta get him out of here and Moon Moon is out there as well,” she finished.

Himari Starbeam, her twin ponytails singed at the tips, crossed her arms.“Oh sure, let’s just waltz into the middle of that,” she said, gesturing wildly at the fiery battle between Yüsēi and Amaterasu. “I’m sure it’ll be totally safe.”

Yumi-Chan clenched her fists. “Safe or not, we can’t just leave them! Besides, our songs are about fighting for what’s right, aren’t they?”

Himari Starbeam sighed. “Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you both.”

The girls dashed into the chaos, dodging stray energy blasts and chunks of debris. Their run was a spectacle by its own. Himari tripping over her own tulle skirt and Yumi-Chan narrowly avoiding a falling beam. Explosions lit up the background like a scene from a music video gone horribly wrong.

Amid the battlefield, Moon Moon was sprawled on the ground where Yüsēi had left her, her silver hair tangled and glittering faintly under the stadium lights. Her breathing was shallow, but her eyes fluttered open as Himari slid to her knees beside her.

“Moon! You’re alive!” Himari exclaimed, shaking her lightly.

Moon Moon groaned, her voice faint. “Alive… but I’m pretty sure I saw my career flash before my eyes. It wasn’t glorious.”

Himari rolled her eyes, relief washing over her despite the chaos around them. “Get up! We need to move before another explosion takes us both out!”

Moon Moon groaned. “Great. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. Fine! But if I die, it’s coming out of your paycheck!”

“We don’t even get paid!” Himari shot back, already dashing.

“That’s exactly my point!” Moon Moon muttered, sprinting behind her.

As if on cue, a blast erupted nearby, sending a wave of heat and debris over their heads. Himari shielded Moon Moon, coughing as dust filled the air. “Come on, Moon. Don’t make me carry you!”

Moon Moon chuckled weakly. “You’d totally ruin your back.”

“Shut up and help me save your lazy butt!” Himari snapped, pulling Moon Moon to her feet and half-dragging her toward safety.

Meanwhile, Yumi-Chan darted across the battlefield, dodging energy blasts and craters with surprising agility. She skidded to a stop in front of Kouta, who was still frozen in shock, his legs trembling beneath him.

“Kouta, isn’t it?” Yumi-Chan screamed, her voice cutting through the cacophony. “I’m here to rescue you!”

Kouta blinked in disbelief as his grandfather’s favorite idol skidded to a halt in front of him. “What are you doing here?! You’ll get yourself killed!”

Before Kouta could protest further, a deafening explosion rocked the stadium. Amaterasu had shifted her focus back to Yüsēi, who now knelt, blood trickling down his face. The ground beneath him was scorched and cracked, a testament to the intensity of their battle.

“You’re outmatched,” Amaterasu said coldly, advancing on the old man. “Stand down, and I might spare these insects.”

Yüsēi spat blood, his defiance unyielding. “You don’t understand… I’ve already made my choice. And I’ll protect Kouta and the rest of them to my last breath.”

Amaterasu’s eyes glinted with malice. “Then you’ll die together.” She raised her hand, gathering a sphere of energy so dense it warped the air around it. She hurled it straight at Kouta, who froze in terror.

“Kouta!” Yumi-Chan yelled, grabbing his arm. “Snap out of it! We’re getting you out of here!”

Kouta blinked, his voice shaking. “I… I can’t leave him. My grandpa... he’ll die if I don’t help!”

Yumi-Chan’s expression softened, but her grip on his arm tightened. “And he’ll die for nothing if you don’t survive! Don’t you see? He’s fighting to protect you. Don’t waste that!”

Time seemed to slow. Yüsēi, battered and broken, pushed himself to his feet. With a burst of speed, he threw himself between the attack and his grandson. The sphere collided with his chest, engulfing him in a blinding explosion of light.

When the smoke cleared, Yüsēi stood, his body charred and trembling. He turned to Kouta, a weak smile on his face. “Stay strong, kid. This… this isn’t over yet.”

And then he collapsed.

Kouta screamed, rushing to his grandfather’s side. The weight of the moment crashed down on him like a tidal wave. The stories, the truths, the sacrifices—it was all too much. Tears streamed down his face as he shook Yüsēi’s limp form. “No… you can’t… you can’t leave me!”

Amaterasu loomed over them, her expression unreadable. “A noble effort, but ultimately futile. The heir must come with me.” She reached out, her clawed hand glowing with ominous energy.

But before she could touch Kouta, a faint glow emanated from Yüsēi’s body. His eyes fluttered open, and he gripped Amaterasu’s wrist with surprising strength. “Not… yet.”