[POV: Piper]

I never imagined… Rowe? A vigilante? The more I thought about it, the more it weirdly made sense. She always had that reckless streak—constantly poking her nose into situations she had no business being involved in. Meddling, always.

Damn it, Rowe...

I floored the gas, my car speeding through the streets as my mind raced even faster. I had to get back to the dorm before her. My heart pounded the entire drive, hands gripping the wheel tighter than they should have. When I arrived, her motorbike wasn't parked in its usual spot. Good. I wasn't too late.

My hands shook as I fumbled with the key, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I pushed open the door and collapsed onto the chair at our tiny dining table, the weight of what I'd seen pressing down on me.

"A bounty on her head… dead or alive… hundreds of thousands," I muttered, trying to keep it together, but fear gnawed at my insides. Rowe, my best friend, was walking around with a target on her back. She could be killed any moment, and I didn't even know.

Tears started falling before I realized it. I wiped at them with the back of my hand, staring at the clock, waiting for her to come through that door.

Then, I heard it. The click of the lock, the door creaking open. My heart leaped into my throat. I looked up, locking eyes with her as she stepped inside. There she was, like it was just another normal night, but this time I knew. I knew everything.

Without a word, I pressed play on the video. The footage I'd taken earlier—the fight with those mercs—started playing. Rowe's expression shifted, a mix of guilt and shock flickering across her face. She didn't need to ask how I found out.

"Piper… I—" Rowe stammered, her voice just as unsteady. I could tell she didn't know what to say, or maybe she didn't want to.

"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice trembled, the question laced with worry, hurt, betrayal.

"We've been friends for five years, Rowe." I felt the sting of those words as they left my mouth. Five years of friendship, and all this time she was risking her life—every single night. If I hadn't followed her… I couldn't even finish the thought.

"I... I'll tell you everything," she finally said, stepping toward the table. I noticed her hand, bandaged up and swollen. I couldn't hold back the sharp breath I took at the sight.

"It started with my family," she began. And just like that, the floodgates opened. Rowe told me everything—how she was adopted by a group of vigilantes after an accident revealed her superhuman ability, how she wasn't just any vigilante but someone who could heal from any injury. Immortal, she called herself.

Superhumans… immortality… vigilantes… It felt surreal.

"What was the name of the vigilante group?" I asked, curiosity gnawing at me. I'd heard about vigilantes in the news, but this? This was different.

"The Knaves," she said quietly, her voice carrying a deep sadness. "They were called The Knaves."

Wait… The Knaves? I knew that name. My memory flashed with images—newspaper articles I'd skimmed with my photographic memory, stories about the sudden disappearance of an entire vigilante group.

"That's why I've never met your parents, isn't it?" I asked, feeling a deep pit form in my stomach. I had always thought it was odd. Rowe had never mentioned her family in all these years. Now I knew why.

"Yeah," she admitted, her voice heavy with regret. "I don't know where they went… but I can't leave Havendale without a vigilante. This was their territory, and now that they're gone, the gangs are moving in. I have to protect it."

Her words were filled with a fury I'd never heard before. A resolve that scared me.

"I'm sorry, Rowe…" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "This is just… a lot to take in. I need some time to process." The words came out automatically, but inside, I already knew. I'd made up my mind. I just needed time to figure out how.

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Rowe nodded, her expression softening. "Take as much time as you need. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

She stood up, moving toward the closet to change, leaving me there to sit in silence.

But I wasn't about to let her keep facing this alone. Not anymore.

I clutched my chest, feeling the weight of the secret I now carried, and whispered to myself, "I won't let this happen, Rowe."

[POV: Third-Person]

"Red Bat managed to fend them off safely," the woman with glasses reported, her eyes darting between the rows of monitors displaying grainy surveillance footage. Her voice was steady, but there was a flicker of concern behind her professional demeanor.

The tall mature looking woman beside her, with striking bright red hair cascading down her back, crossed her arms, her expression clouded with worry. "For now," she muttered, her gaze fixed on the largest screen showing the aftermath of the battle. "But it's only a matter of time before superhuman hunters are sent after her… She's too reckless." There was an unmistakable edge to her voice—frustration, yes, but something deeper. Fear.

The woman with glasses hesitated, glancing at the others who were busy monitoring the remaining feeds. "Should we start the test?" she asked, her tone soft but urgent. The question hung in the air, and for a moment, the whole room seemed to hold its breath.

At the mention of the "test," several of the others turned from their stations, their eyes flicking toward the tall woman. A palpable tension filled the room, like everyone was waiting for permission to release something they were barely containing.

The red-haired woman shook her head, her voice firm but tinged with regret. "A few more weeks," she said, stepping away from the monitors. "We need more time."

The others exchanged glances—some sighed in relief, others shrugged in silent resignation—but they all returned to their work without another word. The hum of machines filled the room once more, though the uneasy undercurrent lingered.

The woman with glasses watched the red-haired figure walk away, her fingers fidgeting against the edge of her desk. She glanced back at the screen where Red Bat's figure was frozen mid-action, victorious for now but unknowingly standing on a precipice.

"Few more weeks…" she whispered to herself, but the weight of uncertainty hung heavily over them all.

[POV: Hyunwoo]

THUD! The heavy sandbag hit the floor with a resounding crash, snapping me out of my thoughts. The gym fell silent for a moment, and I felt the weight of everyone's gaze.

"Easy there, Lee," Coach chuckled, giving me a firm pat on the shoulder. His voice was warm, but his laughter carried a hint of surprise.

"Sorry, Coach," I said, offering a small smile. "I didn't notice the chains were worn down." My coach, a bald, middle-aged man who was once a multi-division champion, just shook his head.

"It's alright, kid," he said, slipping on his gloves. "You've got the power, speed, and reaction time down. But adaptability—that's what we need to sharpen next."

I nodded, following him into the ring. There was something about the way he said it, as if he was holding me to a higher standard, expecting more, and I liked that.

"Get in the ring," he continued with a grin. "I'll show you something."

Hours passed, with every punch, every movement, drilled into my muscle memory. By the time the lesson ended, the sun was already dipping low in the sky, painting the gym in shades of orange and gold. I wiped the sweat off my face, breathing heavily, but content.

"See you tomorrow, Coach," I called out, already planning my evening run. As I stepped out of the gym, the cool air felt like a reward after the heat of training.

My name is Hyunwoo Lee. I'm a transfer student from Korea, now studying at Havendale High—though not for academics. The real reason I came here was for training. My coach, the one who saw potential in me, lives here now. It's funny how things work out sometimes. I met him on a field trip overseas, just a random encounter that changed my life. He saw something in me, something beyond what other coaches ever had. And I wasn't about to waste that opportunity.

I've never lost a fight, amateur or otherwise. Not once. I moved here with my family, managed to convince them it was for the best, and honestly, it was. This place is…different. New. But it's not easy making friends as a foreigner. English is still something I'm working on, but I learn quickly. It's what I do.

I jogged through the streets, feeling my muscles loosen as the rhythm of running set in. The sun was just starting to set, casting long shadows down the alleyways. I slowed down as I reached a secluded corner, an alleyway that was far too quiet. Perfect.

I took a deep breath, centering myself.

CRACK.

The ground beneath me shattered as I launched into the air, my body moving effortlessly, weightless, like I belonged in the sky. The wind rushed past my ears as I landed lightly on the roof of a nearby building. A soft grin tugged at my lips.

"I'm superhuman," I murmured to myself. It was a fact, not something I boasted about but something I carried quietly. I didn't need my powers in the ring, didn't need them to prove my worth. But they were there, beneath the surface, a part of me that no one could take away.

I found a spot to sit, overlooking the town as I pulled a protein drink and a sandwich from my bag. The sunset stretched out before me, painting the sky in fiery colors.

"The sunset's always best from up here," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. The height, the solitude—it gave me perspective. And in moments like this, I remembered why I fought.

But then, a flicker of something caught my eye in the distance. A shadow, too fast to be normal, moving across the rooftops. My grip on the sandwich tightened.

Maybe this town wasn't as quiet as it seemed.